


Lilies and Ambrosia

by Mariyekos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Dynamics, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Weddings, the story starts at the beginning of heavensward and continues a good way through the expansion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariyekos/pseuds/Mariyekos
Summary: When Haurchefant's request to have the Warrior of Light, Alphinaud, and Tataru allowed into Ishgard as wards of House Fortemps is denied, the four are unsure of what to do next. That is, until the topic of marriage comes up, and Haurchefant gets the bright idea that if they were trying to enter Ishgard for awedding, they'd have to be let in. And who better to get married than the Warrior of Light and Haurchefant himself.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 20
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of months back in a tweet I cannot find but swear existed, a mutual talked about how it would be interesting if you got into Ishgard by marrying Haurchefant. I thought about it, decided I agreed, and wrote about a thousand words exploring that. Then I dropped the fic until a few days ago when I decided I wanted to go further with it and here we are! Haurchefant's bold plan to get us into Ishgard. My actual WoL is a fem Au Ra, not elezen, but I figured it would work slightly better in mostly Elezen Ishgard, and for the Alphinaud appearance connection. Anyway, without further ado, enjoy.

The air within the Intercessory was tense as Eldionne, Alphinaud, and Tataru awaited Haurchefant’s return. He’d left several hours before, loudly declaring he would talk to the guards at the Steps of Faith to secure them passage to Ishgard and would be back shortly. Whether or not the first task had been accomplished, the second surely hadn’t. The fire in the Intercessory was burning low, the three having been told to open the door to none save Haurchefant who would knock a code on the door to let them know he was coming. 

Eldionne had wondered at first why he hadn’t elected to let any of his own knights enter without his presence. Then she realized it might have been a reaction to the Crystal Braves; that he’d realized after being so painfully betrayed by those they had thought were their allies, that they might not be able to put their trust in ‘friends’ of a friend they didn’t truly know. 

He was right. 

But he was also late, and while the cold of a stone room surrounded by snow and icy winds was certainly nothing pleasant to sit in, the anxiety creeping up Eldionne’s stomach with each bell signaling the hour but no sign of her savior.

(Because what else could she call him? He who had believed her when she’d come trudging through the snow to his doorstep, terribly underdressed and scared and shaking and unsure of what was going on but begging for his aid, spilling the full story of what she knew as soon as none but he, she, Tataru, and Alphinaud were left. He, who had believed her when she said she saw the Sultana die right in front of her, when the two of them were alone, but swore she had no involvement in the assassination and pleaded for his aid? He was a savior, tried and true.

Or hopefully tried in a successful way. But as the hours passed and his silver head did not come through the heavy door that lead to the intercessory, she began to fear that he might not be her savior after all, not because he hadn’t tried, but because something had stopped him.)

Talking might have helped pass the time. Twelve knew Tataru did her best to spark conversation. But Alphinaud looked like the guilt of what had happened was eating him alive, and the look on Minfilia and Y’shtola and Thancred and Papalymo and Yda’s faces as she left them all behind, one by one, was eating Eldionne alive too and she couldn’t bring herself to take any of the bait Tataru was dangling before her. So they sat in silence, hot chocolate long gone cold, fire dying, breaths starting to become visible in the air. Tataru pacing across the carpet, humming nonsensical nervous songs to herself as she tried to keep warm; Alphinaud hunched over the table, head in his hands with fingers gripped so tightly his nails might have cut lines into his head were he not wearing gloves; Eldionne leaning against one wall, lance by her side, feeling the chill of the stone seep into her bones as if the physical numbness could help numb the pain she felt at so many cruel losses in a single day.

She launched herself off the wall lance in hand when the door finally opened. She fell into a crouch as she stared at the entering figure in the eyes, about to pounce until she felt her anxiety (or, some of it) lift away.

Haurchefant, in the flesh and seemingly uninjured. He wore a deep frown, though it melted away when he set eyes on Eldionne. 

He let out a hearty laugh, lips curling into a wide smile. A characteristic Haurchefant move. “‘Tis good to see you again my friend! I hope I haven’t been gone long enough to earn a lance in the throat, though I understand if my absence might have been a bit more than you were initially expecting.”

Eldionne released a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, straightening and returning her lance to its normal spot on her back.

“Apologies, I’m just a little on edge at the moment. You were gone so long I worried something had happened to you on the way there or back. Do you have any news from the Gate? Will they let us through?”

The smile died away. “No, nothing happened to me during the _journey._ What took me so long was the Gate itself.”

Tataru walked over to the pair of elezen, rubbing her hands together. She really wasn’t dressed for the weather either. “What, was no one there? Can’t blame them in this weather. Blasted cold… I’m already missing the heat and sunshine of Ul’dah!”

Haurchefant shook his head. “No, the Steps of Faith were as well manned as ever. It wasn’t that I couldn’t talk to anyone. It’s just...well, I tried to convince them how important it was that you three be allowed into Ishgard, but they just wouldn’t listen! I tried everything, I tell you. I debated them on morals, I debated them on the law, I even challenged one man to a duel! But still they refused to grant you entrance, citing the recent rise in heretic activity as grounds to bar entrance to any non-native. They said they’d send word of my arrival but... It’s a load of chocobo dung, I tell you! I’m sorry.”

Eldionne bit her lip. After everything they’d been through, they were stuck? They had nowhere to go? 

“Please Lord Haurchefant, there must be some way!” Alphinaud insisted, shooting out of his seat so quickly the small wooden chair he’d been sitting in toppled over. He jumped slightly when it thumped upon hitting the ground, but did not comment. Eldionne leaned over to pick it up.

“I wish there were, but if there is I can’t think of it. Blast! Maybe if I send my father another letter he can do something...I wanted to have him mark you three as ward of House Fortemps, but because of blasted complications that didn’t go through either. My deepest apologies, friends. I promised to help you, and yet here I am with nothing to show.”

“Don’t say that,” Eldionne retorted. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done more for us than any other would. I don’t know where I would be without you, Haurchefant.” She paused. “Actually, I do. I would probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. Maybe a snow drift. Wherever it would be, it would be nowhere as pleasant as here, and not with as nice company.”

Haurchefant chuckled. “Oh now you’re just flattering me! Besides, I don’t know how pleasant this place is at the moment. What happened to the fire? I can see my own breath in here!”

“We ran out of new logs well over half an hour ago,” Tataru explained. “Now it’s burning ash, I think.”

“Ash? Here, let me get some more. Just one moment!” He ran to the door, opening it briefly to poke his head out and talk to the guard. Then he came back in. “Don’t you worry - in a few minutes you’ll have more than enough firewood and three mugs of piping hot cider to warm you back up. And a few blankets. I’m afraid we don’t have any proper winter clothes for lalafell, but I’ve asked for something to be brought for you two,” he explained, pointing to Eldionne and Alphinaud. “Though, I’m not sure if we have any recruits quite as small as you here, so they might be a little on the large side, Master Alphinaud. I hope you don’t mind!”

Alphinaud blushed, looking away. “I just haven’t had my growth spurt yet! It’ll happen soon enough!”

Tataru grinned from ear to ear. “Oh yeah? And when is that growth spurt going to happen? Before or after you get married?”

Alphinaud frowned. “Look, I-”

“That’s it!” Haurchefant exclaimed at the same time, slamming his right fist into his left palm.

“Excuse me?” Alphinaud asked, blinking.

“Marriage!”

This time it was Eldionne’s turn to frown. “Haurchefant, as far as I know there’s not actually any correlation between an elezen’s marriage status and the age at which they stop or start growing.”

“No, no, no, I’m not talking about height, though I’m sure Alphinaud will grow up to be a wonderfully tall and astonishingly handsome man. I mean marriage is the solution to our entrance problem!”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”

“You three can’t enter Ishgard because you’re not Ishgard natives and the knights are worried about heretics entering the city. But if I tell them that you’re not entering just for safety, but because Eldionne and I, who is an Ishgard native, are actually getting married, then they’re sure to let you in! Some say that the Fury would instantly smite any Dravanian who entered one of her most Holy places, and though I’m a bastard and not techincally a member of the four high houses I’m sure my father could arrange for our marriage to be held in the Cathedral - one of the most holy places in all of Ishgard! If we were to ask entrance to Ishgard for our wedding, with Alphinaud and Tataru as your non-Ishgardian witnesses as required by Gridanian custom that may or may not exist, then they would have to let us in. No smart Dravanian would enter Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral, after all. Doesn't that sound perfect?”

Haurchefant then did his characteristic double-fistpump-smile-exhale...whatever you would call it thing, clearly proud of his idea.

Eldionne, Alphinaud, and Tataru meanwhile had gone completely silent. Two out of three jaws had nearly dropped to the floor, Eldionne’s only still shut because she had completely frozen when Haurchefant had basically proposed to her with no warning. 

“Eldionne?” Haurchfant said, question evident in his voice. His head was tilted to the sign in a show of perfect innocence, like he’d just suggested she help him move a crate from the tower to the stables or something else perfectly normal and not life-changing.

“He is right,” Alphinaud muttered, bringing a hand to his chin. “If we were to say we wanted entrance to the city for a marriage in the eyes of Halone, especially important in such tumultuous times, they couldn’t deny us, could they?”

Eldionne shot her head to the side to look at Alphinaud. He was agreeing!?

Tataru nodded. “Yes, yes, that could work! I could pretend to be Eldionne’s childhood friend and bridesmaid, and you could be her younger cousin Alphinaud! After all, even if hers is a bit darker, you both have white-ish hair, and green eyes are close enough to blue. Now, she might be too tall to reasonably be your sister-” “Tataru!” “-but cousin should be fine, right?”

“That’s a marvelous idea. Thank you Tataru, where would we be without you?”

A blush formed on her cheeks. Tataru wrung her hands, swaying from side to side. “Aww, you don’t need to be so sweet.” She stopped to look at Eldionne. “So! What kind of dress do you want? Do you want to have any specific kind of flowers in your bouquet? If Ishgardian weddings still have those sorts of things. I doubt things will go the Ul’dah way, but I’m sure we can still make it fun somehow.”

“I-...” Eldionne bit her lip. What was there to say?

She was getting married, apparently. To Haurchefant. Who she loved and appreciated, but in the friend kind of way. He’d done so much for her, both in the wake of the Sultana incident and when they needed help finding the Enterprise and so much in between. He was kind, and funny, and sometimes a little too bold for her tastes but in a way she knew was just him being genuine so she’d give it a pass. But did she love him enough for _marriage_? Did she love him in the romantic way for marriage?

Not really. But this wasn’t time for her personal opinion. 

They were right. It was a good plan. If it worked, they would get into the city as they wanted to, and she’d marry Haurchefant to make sure they could go in and out without raising suspicion about why she’d suddenly decided to call off the wedding as soon as she’d been granted entrance to Ishgard. If it didn’t work, then she wouldn’t get married because they wouldn’t be granted entrance to the city at all.

Still. The idea of getting _married_ …

“Are you alright, Eldionne? Have I offended you? I promise things don’t need to change between us after the wedding. If it pleases you, we can go our separate ways once things have cooled down and you have found your friends again. I won’t even make you wear the ring. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, if that can be anything at all,” Haurchefant said, taking her gloved hands in his own. 

Eldionne took a deep breath, then shook his hands firmly. “Thank you, Haurchefant. And no, I’m fine, I assure you. Just a little taken by surprise is all. That arrangement sounds good to me, but where are we supposed to get a ring? Unless you have one just sitting around.”

“As a matter of fact, I do!” he exclaimed, reaching into his mail to pull out a necklace. On it was a simple but nevertheless beautiful golden ring, a small diamond set in the middle.

“Is carrying around engagement rings a weird Ishgardian thing?” Tataru asked, standing on the balls of her feet to try to get a better look. Haurchefant unclasped the necklace and slid the ring off, holding it down so Tataru could get a better look.

“It isn’t - it’s something exclusive to me, I’m afraid. Or well, others probably do it, but there’s no formal tradition,” Haurchefant explained. “Besides, I don’t wear this for the express reason of proposing with it. It was my mother’s.”

“Your mother’s?” Eldionne repeated. “She and your father never married though, did they?”

Haurchefant shook his head. “No, as Father was already married when they met, but that didn’t stop him from giving her a ring to show his love. Even if they couldn’t marry, he wanted to let her know she held a dear place in his heart. Lady Fortemps wasn’t very happy about it when she saw me carrying it after my mother’s death, as she apparently hadn’t realized my father had gone so far as to give Mother a ring, but she didn’t try to take the ring either. I kept it as a memento, you see. But if it will fit…” 

He held the ring out to Eldionne. She gave him her hand, and he slid it onto her ring finger. 

A perfect fit.

“That’s a relief! I wasn’t sure we’d have time to find a goldsmith if it didn’t.”

“I suppose we do have some sort of luck left after everything. I was worrying we’d offended the Twelve somehow with the way things have played out the last two days,” Eldionne whispered.

She watched Haurchefant’s expression crumble into something between pity and sympathy. “Even if you had offended the Twelve, I’d still be here to help. Everyone needs a friend, after all! Besides, I don’t think Halone could ever forsake anyone as noble as you. So even if Eleven are against you, you at least have One and me!”

Eldionne retracted the hand that still lay in Haurchefant’s grip to bring it to her face, laughing into it. “Haurchefant, do you think that could count as blasphemy? I don’t want to marry a heretic. I have very strict standards.”

He pouted. Cute. “Of course not! I mean, I don’t see a reason why it would. I am simply professing Halone’s kindness, and your amazing abilities and history! I am saying the Fury has good taste.”

“And that you have good taste too for choosing our dear Eldie?” Tataru grinned.

“Precisely.” 

“Haurchefant!”

In a matter of moments, the room’s four residents erupted in laughter. Haurchefant practically bellowing as he tended to do, Tataru letting out a mischievous snicker, Eldionne giggling between her fingertips, and even Alphinaud chuckling a little despite his gloom.

Maybe Haurchefant wasn’t the man Eldionne had imagined herself marrying. Maybe it wasn’t a marriage of true love. But he was a good man with a good sense of humor that had managed to lift her and her friends’ spirits despite everything that had happened and all the terrible events that had threatened to crush them permanently, and that was good enough for her. A spouse was sort of like an official best friend, after all. And if she was going to be stuck with _him_ as a lifelong friend, well, she could certainly choose worse people.

* * *

Of course, saying she was fine with it and actually believing she was fine with it were two completely different things.

When the four of them rode up to the Gate of Judgement and Haurchefant explained that he'd actually just made up the refugee story, and in fact wanted to bring his companions into the city for his wedding, but hadn't wanted word to get out before he could deliver it himself, the guards had stared at them with wide eyes. Looked them up and down. Judged them. 

"You're really marrying _him_?" one guard laughed, a sneer wide across his face.

"Of course. I can think of no nobler a man," Eldionne replied, not taking the bait and letting any annoyance or shock show on her face. She was supposed to be confident in this farce. And the best confidence came from half-truths, so she could praise him as need be. He deserved it regardless of the reason.

"I can think of plenty nobler a man than a count's bastard," one of the other knights murmured under his breath. Tataru drilled him with a harsh look and the man blanched.

"Did you say something, Ser?" Eldionne asked, pinning the man with a stare of her own. Haurchefant turned to her, eyebrows drawn together.

"N-no, nothing milady. I wish you a wonderful wedding and a prosperous marriage. May the Fury watch over you both."

Eldionne allowed a smile to grace her face. "Thank you, Ser."

"And may the Fury watch over you in your vigil," Haurchefant added, taking one of Eldionne's hands in his own as the guard ordered the Gate be opened.

She took a deep breath.

So...they were finally entering Ishgard. As two lovebirds and their friends come for a wedding. Not three enemies of the state running from an assassination they had no part in and the sympathetic who was willing to smuggle them in. She could do this.

Of course, the stare the steward from House Fortemps gave her when she and Haurchefant (plus Alphinaud and Tataru) made it a few steps into Ishgard, hand in hand, did hit her resolve a little. She wondered why he was there. Had word of their arrival already reached House Fortemps?

"My lord," the steward began, staring at their locked hands, "is it wise to be so bold?"

Haurchefant shrugged, though he did release Eldionne's hand. "Sometimes I forget how strict the views on public displays of affection are here in Ishgard. But am I wrong to show my love for my future wife?"

The steward physically recoiled. "Future wife!?" he exclaimed, surprise evident. He didn't seem disgusted or upset, just...confused.

As did the several people around them who had turned to look at the newcomers following the steward's outburst. 

He cleared his throat. "Apologies, my lord. But, I thought you had requested we make these three wards of the house. I recall no mentions of marriage in your letters."

"Surprise?" Haurchefant offered, smiling brightly.

The steward stared. "Yes...surprise...how very like you..." He looked to Eldionne then, eyes briefly crossing over Tataru and Alphinaud. "Here, let me take your bags. I will show you the way to Fortemps Manor."

Bags were handed over, and the five went on their way. The steward with eyes forward, Haurchefant with a stupid grin, Alphinaud staring at the ground, Tataru marveling at the sights around them, and Eldionne locked on Haurchefant who would wave occasionally like they were old friends who happened to pass each other on the street on a normal day.

The steward went in ahead of them, asking them to wait outside for a minute until he could gather those inside. They agreed, waiting patiently but wordlessly, a nervous energy in the air. Haurchefant was as confident as ever, but with every additional moment they spent in Ishgard Eldionne felt more and more like their farce was going to collapse around them, leaving her, Alphinaud, and Ishgard without a place to stay and Haurchefant disgraced. But she wouldn’t give in to such thoughts. Thinking them would get her nowhere. So she cleared her head and waited, standing by until the steward ushered them in.

There were three men standing in the foyer when they entered Fortemps Manor - one older, likely the count, and two younger. Haurchefant’s brothers, most likely?

“Haurchefant,” Count Fortemps began, standing tall, one hand gripping a solid wood cane. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but no words came out. He closed it.

The youngest of the men decided to speak first, eyes moving up and down Eldionne’s body. “Well you certainly chose a looker,” he said with a grin, earning a subtle elbow in the side from the man next to him.

“Please excuse Emmanellain. Sometimes he forgets his manners,” the man said, glaring at Emmanellain. In turn, his brother pulled away as if offended. Like he somehow hadn’t realized it wasn’t polite to say such things. Not that Eldionne cared that much, but Artoirel was nearly seething (though he’d already seemed upset before Emmanellain’s comment) and Count Fortemps just looked tired. “My name is Artoirel, firstborn son of House Fortemps. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said through gritted teeth.

Not exactly the warm welcome they were hoping for.

Count Fortemps took a few steps forward. “And I am Count Edmont de Fortemps, Haurchefant, Artoirel, and Emmanellain’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet the adventurer Haurchefant has sung so many praises of. And an honor to be graced by the presence of the second Azure Dragoon, if the rumors are to be believed.”

Eldionne swiftly fell into a bow, holding it a moment before rising again. “As is it a pleasure and honor to meet you, my lord. I’m not sure what prompted the Eye to choose a second, but I assure you Estinien and I have been working together to figure out whatever this omen is trying to tell us. With the attack on the Steps of Faith and Midgardsormr’s awakening, I fear it may be a sign of Nidhogg’s return.”

Count Fortemps gaze softened. “‘Tis a dangerous job, I must say. Though the position of Azure Dragoon is essential to maintaining Ishgard’s strength and prominence in the fight against the dragons, I must admit a part of me wishes my daughter-in-law had chosen a job with a slightly lower mortality rate.”

Eldionne blinked. “Then…”

“That is the case, is it not?” Count Fortemps asked, one eyebrow raised as he turned to face Haurchefant. “This morning I thought I was being asked to welcome three wards, not a wedding party, after all.”

Haurchefant shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Artoirel scoffed. “There are some things one can reasonably surprise their family with. An important tome unearthed in one of the knight’s exploration mission. A unique sword reclaimed from heretics. A heroic victory on the field of battle, aiding the people you’ve sworn to protect and more. A new bride is not one of them.”

“Artoirel,” Count Fortemps said, voice holding a warning. “It’s alright. It isn’t as though she’s an unknown figure - I know you’ve heard the tales of her deeds in the Central Highlands, and the Eye has confirmed her strength. You can deny neither of these things. Please be kind to her. I’m sure she’s a wonderful person, else Haurchefant would not have chosen to wed her.” He looked back to Eldionne. “Please excuse my sons; they’re just a little surprised, and it’s quite late. With what I’ve heard of your past, I’m sure you know the effects that disturbed sleep can have on a person.”

Eldionne smiled, bowing ever-so-slightly. “Of course, no harm done. Thank you for taking me into your house, Count Fortemps.”

He smiled. “Just Edmont is fine, my dear.”

When Eldionne rose to meet Count Fortemps’ gaze, Haurchefant clapped a hand to her back. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I think some proper introductions are in order! As we’ve already discussed, this is my lovely fiancé Eldionne Lanquairt. The young man is her cousin Alphinaud Leveilleur, and the other young lady is her childhood friend Tataru Taru.”

Alphinaud dropped into a bow of his own while Tataru curtsied. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” Alphinaud said, followed by Tataru’s cheerier “Nice to meet you!”

Count Fortemps nodded in return. “And a pleasure to meet you two as well.” He looked to the steward. “The hour is late, so could you please inform the cooks to prepare a small meal before readying their rooms? One for the ladies and another for the young man. I expect Haurchefant’s were prepared earlier…?”

“Of course, my lord,” the steward responded before walking away.

One for the ladies? So Eldionne wouldn’t be sleeping with Haurchefant? Not that there was anything wrong with that - it was a relief, actually, seeing as this whole ‘engagement’ thing still hadn’t really set in - but it took her by surprise. It was probably just some sort of Ishgardian wait-until-marriage tradition.

Dinner - or their late night snack, or whatever you would call it - was a bit awkward, but otherwise fine. The food was absolutely delicious. Eldionne hadn’t actually managed to grab anything at the banquet before her...conversation...with Nanamo, so it was certainly the best food she’d had in ages. She could tell Tataru greatly appreciated it, while Alphinaud wore the expression of someone who’d probably grown up with that kind of food and didn’t regard it as anything too special. Rich kid. But he was happy too, regardless of Artoirel’s harsh stare and Emmanellain’s unending questioning gaze. 

Count Fortemps asked the occasional question about her travels, having heard several tales from Haurchefant already but interested in hearing her version of events. He was particularly interested in the incident surrounding the fake inquisitor and Francel’s close call, thanking her for her assistance in the matter when she finished.

Once dinner was done and Eldionne retired to her room with Tataru (assured a bath and change of clothes would be prepared for her shortly), she fell into bed with a big sigh. There were two, so they could each have their own, but Eldionne didn’t really feel like sleeping alone. Nor did Tataru, who admitted with a quiet laugh that she was glad to not be alone for the night either. Better one warm, comfy bed than two isolated ones.

“How did things come to this?” Eldionne asked, speaking more to herself than Tataru, staring at the ceiling with her limbs splayed across the bed. 

“What?” Tataru asked, climbing up on the bed to lie next to her. “So much has happened the last few days that I can think of at least a dozen things to talk about.”

“Anything. Everything. Marriage. The assassination. I don’t know. I think I’ve felt a wider range of emotions in the last three days than I have in the last three months. Maybe even six.”

“...Haurchefant’s a nice guy. I’m sure he’ll be nice to you too, and from the way he talks I’m sure that if you want it he’ll divorce you as soon as this is over so you can marry whoever it is that you really love!”

Eldionne choked. “Divorce? Tataru, we aren’t even married yet!”

Tataru raised an eyebrow, flipping over to rest on her stomach, propping her head up with her elbows. “Oh? So you think you’ll stick with him forever?” She kicked her feet back and forth, a mischievous smile on her face.

Eldionne rolled onto her side, lips pursed at that sly grin. “I didn’t say that! I hardly know him, Tataru. Or, I sort of know him since he has a penchant for telling stories by the fireside any time I drop by Dragonhead so I think I know more of his childhood than I do your or Alphinaud’s. But I’m taking things one step at a time. Marriage still seems weird and unreal, so thinking about divorce is beyond me right now. Okay?”

“Whatever you say!” Tataru replied, rolling onto her back. “Man, what do you think these beds are made of? They’re so soft compared to what we have back at the Waking Sands.”

“I don’t know, feathers? Ishgard is known for its chocobos. Maybe they collect fallen feathers from the stables to be used in bedding or something.”

“I bet Haurchefant would know the answer. You saw how he obsessed over that chocobo of his, right? And the way he said goodbye to each and every chocobo in the Dragonhead stables before we left?”

Eldionne snorted. “Yeah, I did. It was kind of funny, but a little endearing too.”

“Endearing? Well then, I think-”

A knock at the door cut Tataru off.

“Lady Lanquairt? The bath is ready for you,” one of the Fortemps maids announced, head bowed.

Eldionne rose, Tataru waving to her as she left. By the time she returned from the (pleasantly relaxing) bath, Tataru had fallen asleep, still in the clothes she’d marched into Ishgard in. 

Eldionne crawled into bed beside her, a smile on her face. 

Tataru was right. The bed was really soft. Far softer than she was used to, and combined with the silk or other soft, sleek fabric her nightgown was made of, made her feel almost out of place. She was an adventurer. A wanderer. Such nice things felt beyond her, almost. But she’d accept them.

And they were certainly good for falling asleep quickly, as soon she drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first post I'll be putting out both chapters 1 and 2, so look for the second one shortly if it's not up when you click on this! My idea here is that Haurchefant to be in love with WoL, but she doesn't really love him back. Not romantically, at least. Platonically maybe. But he realizes she's not in love with him even if he's in love with her, so he'll try to be as respectful as he can while still being someone who does not have a natural filter about what you probably should and should not say. I imagine him as being pretty bold not because he's trying to push buttons, but because that's just how he is. A little _too _genuine, if you know what I mean. And WoL, or Eldionne, realizes that he likes her, but doesn't fully realize/process that he _loves _her loves her, if that makes sense.____


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever-so-slightly shorter chapter, more for establishing character and place than plot. But still important! This is probably going to be 30,000+ words, so establishing how Eldionne acts around certain people is important for all that. And also fun. This story does have a fluff tag, after all! But I promise the story will pick up after this if this seems a bit slow, so don't worry. Slow stuff is cool (and is this slow enough to be considered slow burn? Can it be if they propose right away and get married 3 chapters in?), but I like fast stuff too.

Eldionne and Tataru were woken the next morning by one of the Fortemps’ servants, a young woman who informed them breakfast was being prepared and would be ready in about twenty minutes. Eldionne’s eyes widened at the message, head turning to face the curtains on the far side of the room. Had she truly slept so late, or were the Fortemps just early risers?

The sliver of sunlight peaking out from below the thick curtains was enough to tell her it was the former. How exhausted she must have been to sleep so late. Even if they hadn’t arrived in Ishgard until nightfall, and even if they’d stayed up until almost the twelfth bell talking, it wasn’t like her to sleep so late. She’d fallen into a routine, waking up shortly after dawn each morning no matter how tired she was. Her body had simply learned that was the time to be awake, so it woke her even on relaxation days when she’d much prefer to have slept until noon or later.

But she was up, and there was food to be eaten, so Eldionne crawled out of bed and went over to the pile of clothing that had been set out for her. She’d been asked for her sizes the night before, having not had time to bring any clothes of her own other than the light garments she wore under her armor and the armor itself. Someone must have bought them as soon as the markets opened.

Tataru, meanwhile, frowned heavily at the clothes she’d been given.

“You okay over there?” Eldionne asked, lifting her nightgown over her head to get dressed.

“These are...these are…” Tataru was aghast, horror plain on her face and heavy in her voice. “These are  _ terrible! _ They’re quite clearly children’s clothes, first of all. Which I understand because it was last minute and they don’t have lalafell in Ishgard from what I know, but did they really need to choose such  _ ugly _ ones?”

Eldionne grinned, finding the situation more amusing than Tataru probably wanted her to. “Maybe they’ll look better when you try them on,” she said, shrugging to emphasize it.

Tataru rolled her eyes in response, but did so anyway.

And she was right. The clothes didn’t look good on her at all. The shirt, white and frilled, was much too big in the shoulders. The skirt, blue and silky, was too long and hardly fit around her waist. She had a blue coat that frankly didn’t fit anywhere at all, shoulders big, sleeves too long, bottom to short and so on, but she took it off as soon as she’d put it on. The socks were fine and there were no shoes so she wore her own, but they just didn’t match the outfit above. They’d even given her a tall blue cap, which reminded Eldionne of the ugly thing the head of the Observatorium wore. Tataru replaced that with her own.

“I feel like a dress up doll given to a five-year old who didn’t have any clothing from the same set,” Tataru whined, prompting Eldionne to hold back a giggle. It slipped through the fingers she used to cover her laugh anyway. “Eldie! It’s not funny.” She frowned. “Do you think this is their way of saying they don’t want us here? Publicly humiliating us? Ishgardians are a crafty lot - too polite to tell us outright but to uptight to let us go around on our own business unscathed.”

“Now now Tataru, I’m sure they tried their best. They just...aren’t very good. I’m sure if you ask for some supplies to make your own outfit they’ll give them to you. Or you could just ask them to wash your clothes while we eat and put them back on for the trip around town,” Eldionne suggested.

Tataru sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan. Now what do you have? If yours are a disaster too I’m going to need your sizes immediately if I’m going to make your wedding dress anytime soon. Fake reason or not, weddings are still important, and I will  _ not _ have you looking anything less than perfect!” Tataru shouted, wagging her finger for emphasis.

“Got it, got it,” Eldionne laughed, quickly changing into the clothes she’d been given.

Thankfully hers were a much better fit. She’d been given a forest green dress, cinched below the shoulders to flare out below, belted at a high waist, and splitting down the middle to reveal a daffodil-colored under layer. The black heels were simple and thick enough at the back that she wasn’t worried about breaking an ankle, though felt unnecessarily high for being hidden underneath a gown.

It was…

Well, it fit.

Tataru’s grimace told her all she needed to know.

“Well, it doesn’t look bad on you,” Tataru began, looking Eldionne up and down, “I just wouldn’t combine those colors. Which match Haurchefant’s armor, now that I think of it. Maybe he should change too.”

Eldionne nodded. “Seeing all the red here and knowing what the House Fortemps crest looks like, I’m surprised he and I haven’t been dressed in carmine. But regardless of color, I think I’ll be asking for a tunic and breeches alongside your weaving supplies. Dresses just feel too open, you know? While simultaneously being hard to move in.”

“I know what you mean,” Tataru sighed, lifting the sides of her skirt an ilm before letting it fall. “Skirts are almost worse.”

Eldionne nodded again, then moved to the door. “Shall we, then?”

“We shall,” Tataru responded. “How much will you bet Alphinaud just looks like himself and isn’t bothered in the slightest?”

“The Sultana’s coffers,” Eldionne replied without a thought, smile wide for half a second until her whole body froze, fingers gripping the doorhandle. “That is...I…”

“...it’s fine. It’ll be fine. You didn’t do it, and I know you didn’t. Word should be reaching us soon enough, and it won’t be attached to us, I’m sure. It has to be…”

Eldionne swallowed hard. Then fell forward when the doorhandle she was gripping suddenly jerked forward alongside the door it was attached to, letting go to brace herself on the closest thing in front of her.

Which, she realized a moment later, was Haurchefant’s chest. Which her fingers were pressed to, her face hovering just in front of his neck.

“Well good morning to you too, my dear!” he said with a bright smile, his hands on Eldionne’s shoulders to stabilize her. He let go the moment she pulled back, not prolonging the contact any more than was necessary. Perfectly polite. 

Eldionne blinked rapidly. “I- good morning, Haurchefant. What are you doing here?”

It was odd, seeing him out of armor. He wore a grey fur coat over a dark green tunic, not quite the same shade as Eldionne’s gown but close enough. Below it was a pair of black trousers tucked into knee high boots of the same color.

“Well, I do live here when I’m not stationed at Dragonhead,” he responded seemingly without a care in the world, being much too literal and earning himself a gentle shove from Eldionne who leaned on the doorway with her eyes narrowed.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. I never would have guessed,” she said in a monotone voice, making Haurchefant’s grin grow wider. Eldionne rolled her eyes, but felt a grin of her own coming on.

Leave it to Haurchefant to suddenly appear the moment she felt herself drifting toward despair, jumping in with a joke and a smile to lift her spirits.

Haurchefant bowed to her, winking to Tataru who remained on the other side of the doorway in their room. “Then I’m most glad to have let you know!” Then, he cleared his throat. “But in more serious talk, I wanted to check on you before we got to breakfast in case there was anything you wanted to say before we reconvened with Father and my brothers.”

“Not that I can think of. Frankly, my mind’s still spinning too fast from everything that’s happened to form a proper thought.”

“That’s fair. But do let me know if there’s anything I can help with! I’m here for you, as a friend and ally, no matter what other official titles we may hold.”

Eldionne smiled. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Behind her, Tataru cleared her throat quite loudly. “Eh-hem, I do have one question.”

Haurchefant nodded. “Go ahead.”

Tataru raised an eyebrow. “What exactly were you expecting when you opened the door to a lady’s room without knocking? Just a conversation? Or some certain...sights that one might see in a place where someone thinks no one’s looking? You were about a minute off from a few fewer layers.”

Immediately a blush shot across Eldionne’s face, the elezen turning around in a quick motion as she pinned Tataru with a stare that the lalafell shrugged off without a problem.

Haurchefant, meanwhile, chuckled. “Oh, I guess that is true...What a disappointment, then. I’m sure Eldionne has the most wonderful physique from all her time hunting monsters and primals and corrupt men alike! Though I’ve only caught glimpses of those toned arms from time to time when you have removed your armor to reveal the tight cloth underneath, I’m sure they’re a most splendid sight indeed. You’re quite lucky to have seen them, Miss Tataru.”

“Haurchefant,” Eldionne hissed, spinning back around hoping her stare would be more effective on him than it was on Tataru.

A few yalms behind him, she heard a loud sigh.

“Oh Fury preserve me…” Artoirel groaned, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Haurchefant turned around, looking to his brother who up until that moment no one had realized had been standing there. How much had he heard? “Good to see you as well, Artoirel. I hope you slept well, despite the surprise our arrival must have brought.”

Artoirel removed his hand, revealing a furrowed brow. “Must you be so,” he waved his arms around, “like that?”

“Like what?” Haurchefant cocked his head to the side. “Appreciative of my love? There’s nothing wrong with being impressed with one’s body, regardless of your relationship with them. A strong body is a healthy body, and a healthy body lives a long life! Especially when its owner is such a frequent fighter. A weapon is only as good as its wielder, after all, and it’s the responsibility of a knight to keep themselves in top shape.”

Eldionne bit her bottom lip as Artoirel took in a long breath, his right eye twitching. “Yes, I know that. But you needn’t be so loud about it in public.”

“Artoirel, though I may not live here as frequently as you, this is still my home. Most people would consider that a private space.”

“Then please carry out such conversations behind closed doors.”

“Before marriage!? Artoirel, I never expected you to say such a thing...” Haurchefant gasped, holding a hand to his chest as if taken aback. Tataru snickered, and Eldionne let her head drop. 

Maybe Haurchefant  _ was _ trying to sabotage them somehow. Because there was really no need to tease Artoirel in that way, especially as the man seemed so upset Eldionne wouldn’t be surprised if he collapsed from some sort of internal failure.

Thankfully they were spared the possible consequences of the conversation continuing when Emmanellain popped his head in the hall from behind Artoirel.

“Hurry up, you lot! Breakfast is ready, and every moment I’m stuck waiting for you is a moment it grows colder. You can talk at the table!” he shouted.

“Perfect!” Haurchefant shouted back, clapping his hands together. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Shall we?”

“We shall!” Tataru cheered back, stepping around Eldionne to march down the hall, passing both Haurchefant and Artoirel who had yet to move.

Haurchefant was next, tilting his head to their destination as he locked eyes with Eldionne but made no further contact. It was only when they were about two yalms away that Artoirel made to move as well.

Breakfast itself was just as marvelous as dinner the night before. As Tataru had predicted, Alphinaud’s outfit seemed perfectly fitting style-wise, and he seemed to be completely unbothered by the change. A slight air of guilt still hung around him, a remnant of his involvement in the Crystal Braves situation, but hopefully it would dissipate soon enough. Maybe they could contact Urianger by linkshell and have him talk to Alphinaud. From what Eldionne understood he’d frequented the Leveilleur household as Alphinaud grew up, so he was some sort of brother figure. That acted much older and more distant than Eldionne’s brother back home, so it felt odd to say that, but they were close enough regardless. At least Urianger had managed to escape the whole mess…

Over breakfast, Eldionne’s feeling that Count Fortemps was a good man was confirmed. He was polite, and sweet, and fatherly, and most of all accepting. Something in her gut told her he didn’t totally buy the whole engagement act she and Haurchefant had going on, not in the way Artoirel didn’t because he doubted Haurchefant, but in a way she thought he could read her heart well enough to sense the hesitation there. But he wouldn’t question it. Maybe polite suggestions. But he seemed the type of man to ask her if she was sure and then respect her decision once he got his response, and she appreciated that. Really, he would make a lovely father-in-law for however long her marriage lasted.

But the most important thing about breakfast, above Alphinaud’s frankly boring outfit and the Count’s nice temperament, was the revelation that the wedding was to be held in three days.

“Excuse me?” Eldionne said when Count Fortemps announced it, nearly dropping her fork. She noticed Haurchefant had also frozen when the announcement was made. Had he not known?

“Given the recent rise in heretic activity, and the reasoning that entering the Cathedral would help prove your innocence, the Archimandrite requested the wedding be held as soon as possible, within the week. Though I know you likely wished to have more time, as it had to be held so soon, I thought it only fitting it be held on Saint Finnea’s day, to ensure a long lasting and loving marriage,” Count Fortemps explained.

Eldionne looked to Haurchefant. Did he know who Saint Finnea was? Because she didn’t, so she had no idea what that meant other than what Count Fortemps just said.

Thankfully Emmanellain decided to explain for her. “Wait, Saint Finnea? Didn’t she go on a pilgrimage across Coerthas because her husband  _ died?  _ Not to say she’s bad or anything, but I don’t know how much I want my brother getting married on a day that’ll grant him the blessing of the saint-of-the-dead-husband.”

Across the table, Alphinaud choked on his drink. Eldionne kept her eyes on Haurchefant, unsure what to say, while he just hummed.

“Well, yes,” he admitted, seemingly unbothered despite the fact they were talking about his suggested death. “But he died a peaceful death at one hundred seventeen, from what the stories say. Saint Finnea’s second pilgrimage was after his death, true, but she went on another when she was young, and the life she lived before that was absolutely wonderful. ‘Twas how they met, actually! Her husband had fought outside the Dusk Vigil during one of the Horde’s attacks, but was injured and separated from the group. Had Saint Finnea not found him, then just a regular woman on a pilgrimage to visit Halone’s Holy sites that had headed the defense of the Vigil by chance, he would’ve perished from his wounds. But there she was, and it was when she placed her hands on his skin to heal what should’ve been a fatal injury that they fell in love. That was the first of the many miracles she performed on her journey, you know.”

“Yes, as he should know,” Artoirel commented, raising his eyebrow to Emmanellain in a scolding, but still fairly friendly way. Much less severe than he was with Haurchefant. “Have you been dozing off in church again? Heavens know you skipped far more lessons than you attended when you were young.”

Emmanellain opened his mouth and pulled back, inhaling sharply to offer some sort of retort. Haurchefant meanwhile burst out laughing, and Count Fortemps sighed.

What a family they made.

And what a story as well. A long life was good, as was a happy marriage. She was no healer, having only ever learned the basics of conjury from her mother when she was young and abandoning it when her father had offered to teach her the lance and she took to it so much faster. A basic cure spell was no Finnea-level skill, from the sounds of it. But it seemed a fair day to marry. She’d never dreamed up a special wedding day as a child to be upset over, so she had no issue with the day in particular.

The speed on the other hand…

Well, it was just one day. Then she could go back to living her life as she normally did. Haurchefant wasn’t going to press her into anything she didn’t like, and she could tell Count Fortemps wasn’t either. Just a few hours of awkwardness and then it was over. No big deal.

The real big deal was her dress. As she expected, Tataru immediately ran to one of the stewards the moment breakfast ended so she could request the supplies she needed, both for the dress and for daily outfits for herself. She also requested more practical outfits for Eldionne, made of tunics and breeches and the like. The steward assured them it would be done, and told Eldionne that he’d already sent word to the armorer to have her measured for more dragoon armor in the case her current set was damaged. 

Eldionne thanked him, as did Tataru. Then they walked over to where Alphinaud was chatting with Haurchefant. Count Fortemps had left to carry out some official business, Emmanellain and a young boy Eldionne hadn’t been introduced to ran out to head to the Jeweled Crozier, and Artoirel had retreated to his room, so it was just the four of them.

“What should we do now?” Alphinaud asked, frowning heavily. “We must needs expose the Crystal Braves and Lolorito for their treachery, but we can’t very well do that while in Ishgard. Nor should we, as it risks damaging House Fortemps’ name if we don’t succeed.”

Tataru frowned. “Can’t we just lay low for a while? Let Urianger do his thing in Ul’dah and rest until a good lead shows itself?”

Eldionne nodded. “That sounds good to me. Showing ourselves too early won’t benefit us - we need to give the Braves time to cool down and forget about us a bit. Let them get frustrated at being unable to find us and allow that to break them down. Ul’dah will undoubtedly be in chaos over the Sultana’s...death, as well as Lolorito’s. For now we should rest and recover, and seek out opportunities to solidify our standing in Ishgard. No offense to Haurchefant,” she said with a motion in his direction that he shrugged off, “but from what I’ve heard and the few I’ve met, Ishgardians tend to be rather suspicious. Especially of outsiders. We don’t want to have to worry about protecting ourselves from the people here as well.”

“All fair points,” Alphinaud conceded, hand to his chin.

“Then as long as we’re here, would you like a tour of the city? I’d love to show you all around your new home, even if it is only such for a time,” Haurchefant offered.

“Do you not have to return to Dragonhead?” Eldionne asked.

“Not yet, no. I’ve left Corientaux in charge while I’m away, and had planned to be gone at least a week anyway. I’ll have to go back two or so days after the wedding, but I can arrange to return if you need be.”

“Will it not seem odd for you to be parted from your wife so soon after marriage?”

“Not really. ‘Tis common in Ishgard, unfortunately. War doesn’t exactly create the best circumstances for sticking together. Commanders are often parted from their spouses, left to visit only occasionally and being left a mystery parent their child does not recognize when they become old enough to have forgotten the face that was there in their younger days…” 

Eldionne frowned. She hadn’t meant to bring up such a touchy subject. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be! It wasn’t as if either of my parents were ever away when I was a child. Well. Not in that way. When Mother was still alive and I lived with her, we didn’t see Father very often, but he was always kind in the rare moments I did see him, and I never forgot him. Then when she passed I was allowed to live in House Fortemps myself, so it’s no big issue. Really! There’s no need to frown so widely.”

Eldionne raised a hand to her lips, having not realized she was doing so. Then, she dropped it.

“Of course. But I’m sorry nonetheless for bringing up bad memories.” She paused for a moment, letting the apology sink in. “Is now a good time for the tour, then, or would you like to wait until later?”

“Now if that’s fine with your companions!” Haurchefant replied, cheery as ever.

“Totally! The manor’s nice and all, but after being cooped up in the intercessory for so long and then here, I’m more than ready to get outside,” Tataru said with a dramatic sigh.

Alphinaud spoke next. “It’s fine with me as well.”

Haurchefant clapped his hands together once more. “Perfect! Now then, if you’ll follow me…”

* * *

The tour went well enough. Stares followed them wherever they went, mostly on Tataru, which the lalafell didn’t particularly appreciate. Especially given her outfit. But they made it through the full tour without being stopped or harassed, which was the most important part in Eldionne’s opinion. 

It was interesting, being in such an old and storied city. Gridania had its own culture, that was for certain, but it was different. More about nature and its gifts rather than people and their stone effigies. More about the individual than the group. Most everything tied directly back to Halone and a blessing, a message, or so on that she’d given.

Even ignoring the snow piles on the ground and the chill in the air, Ishgard felt cold. Cold in the impersonal way. A disconnect, sort of. A people tied to an ideal or set of beliefs, rather than the land itself. Which wasn’t necessarily bad, as unity was unity, but it was just different.

Eldionne hoped that she’d grow more comfortable in it over time. Whether or not she returned to Ishgard after her journey’s end or just stayed there until the current situation was dealt with.

By the time they returned to the manor, lunch had already been prepared. Artoirel had apparently gone out while they’d been away and wouldn’t be joining them, but Count Fortemps and Emmanellain sat in their regular places, waiting for their arrival. 

Lunch was as great as breakfast. There was less talking, but Eldionne didn’t mind. It was a chance to clear her head and think of the days ahead. Likely good in some ways, but not in others. 

A mountain of fabric awaited them when she and Tataru entered the room they’d been given, alongside one of the Fortemps’ servants and a woman Eldionne didn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” she asked the woman, one eyebrow raised at the mirrors that had been brought into the room.

“Yes, my Lady. It’s time for your measurements. From what I’ve been told you’re to have a moonlight wedding, so we can likely push the dress deadline to noon of your wedding day, but that still leaves us with only two and a half days to complete an entire wedding ensemble. Every second waiting is a second lost and a second of quality gone, so please strip,” the woman explained. A seamstress, then.

Tataru crossed her arms. “Um, excuse me? You’re preparing the dress then?”

The seamstress blinked, eyes wide. It took her a few seconds to gather herself. “Yes, miss…”

“Tataru. Who is Eldionne’s best friend. And already planned to work on her wedding dress. So even if you’re trying to take over, you’re not getting rid of me. Do you already have the design? Because if not then I’ve got some ideas to give and sketches to make, because we’re doing this my way, understand?” Tataru explained, voice firm and eyes narrowed.

The seamstress seemed uneasy. “I understand you might want to help, Miss Tataru, but-”

“No buts,” Eldionne interrupted. “Tataru and I have talked about this since I was a young girl. Please, let her help. The Gridanian style may differ from the Ishgardian style, so you can discuss the final design for her once she presents it, but at least let her show what she has planned.”

Which wasn’t exactly true. They’d never talked about wedding dresses in her life, much less in her childhood. But she could tell Tataru was on edge, and once she set her mind to something she was going to do it. Might as well let her get her inner seamstress and designer on.

The seamstress bowed, finally conceding. “I understand. You may begin your designs while I take Lady Eldionne’s measurements. I’ve brought in a range of fabrics to choose from in addition to those you requested to make your own garments, so please go through them to find what pleases you most.”

Tataru grinned widely, throwing up her arms and balancing on one foot as she tended to do when she got excited. “Awesome!” She looked to Eldionne, winking. “I’ll have it all chosen out and drawn up before you know it. Now get measured little lady!”

Eldionne giggled, shaking her head as she did. “Sure, sure. Now you hurry up too. I’d hate to have some weird cinch in my dress because you messed up a line in your hurry.”

Tataru laughed back and got to work, riffling through the various fabrics as the steward exited the room and Eldionne stripped. 

It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I got most of my comments out at the end of chapter 1 since I'm posting them both in one sitting, and thus I don't have much to say here. Trying to get down different ways of speaking is difficult, but I hope I've done all right differentiating between people like Tataru, Eldionne, and Artoirel who grew up in different situations. Oh! And Saint Finnea! She actually exists in XIV, though not exactly as written here. She's the patron saint of the Convictory who guarded the Dusk Vigil from an attack by the Horde, according to a single line of dialogue. Moving on, next chapter is the wedding! I have it written, but I'm debating on whether I should actually write out a scene that for now is included just as an "it happened." Maybe, maybe not. We'll see. If there's anything you're curious about or anything you liked in particular, feel free to leave a comment because I'd love to know what you think. Thanks for reading, and until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to up the rating from Teen to Mature, partially because of some adult topics mentioned in this chapter and partially because of some violence in the next chapter. The fic already had the "Canon-typical violence" tag, but I thought I'd up it to the main "Graphic Depictions of Violence" tag just to be safe. It's nothing excessive, and the adult topics (...which are not that adult frankly but I'll mention them in the end note even though they appear here) are not that amazing, hence why this has the Mature but not Explicit tag. If there's ever any smut, which I don't really plan on writing but if I do, it'll be in a side fic that is listed as a part of the same series. That way people who want it will see it, and those who don't can skip over it.
> 
> Anyway, that's a whole lot of cleanup stuff, so might as well get on with things. This chapter is nearly 8,000 words, so it's longer than the last few. But it's wedding time, and this is a fake relationship/wedding fic, so you can't skimp out on the wedding, y'know? Now without further ado, enjoy.

The days leading up to the wedding were, in all honesty, extremely boring.

Mostly Eldionne just stood there with Tataru or the seamstress trying to check certain fabrics or fits against her body. Took a break for a meal or snack. Went back in. Repeat.

Occasionally she’d be let free and visited Haurchefant, reading over the reports he’d been sent from Dragonhead, offering him advice on what to do next. More Dravanian rosaries had been found, pointing to heretic activity that they hadn’t been able to root out. Thankfully there hadn’t been any crystal shipments stolen recently, but then again there hadn’t been many crystal shipments at all. Not with the Scions largely unaccounted for, and the Crystal Braves turned traitor or missing. Eldionne prayed that some had refused to go along with their companions’ treachery, but there was no way of knowing as things were.

What was most interesting was the lack of news on the Sultana’s death. Haurchefant assured her he would let her know if he heard anything, but apparently there hadn’t even been rumors of trouble at the banquet. 

Aymeric had come to visit for dinner the second night, having gotten word of the surprise engagement and curious as to how that had come to pass. She took him aside before they sat down to eat, quickly giving him a rundown of the situation which he accepted without much question. He understood the tensions that ran through Ishgard, and the many difficulties that came with trying to navigate its politics as even one in power, not to mention a foreigner in an awkward situation. He gave her his deepest apologies for not being there when the announcement about the Sultana’s death had been made, and swore to defend her if word of its occurrence and her supposed involvement ever reached Ishgard. She thanked him sincerely, then returned to the group so they could sit to eat.

It was a lovely meal, albeit a bit awkward given the circumstances. Aymeric was of course invited to the wedding and graciously accepted, ensuring Estinien would be there as well. Both to give legitimacy to the whole ordeal as Azure Dragoon, and to support Eldionne who Aymeric said he was quite fond for, though he would not admit it himself.

Eldionne had to laugh at that. How true. Estinien was a wonderful friend, as much as he tried to distance himself, and she had a soft spot for him. He’d suddenly appeared out of the blue to aid her more than once in Coerthas, and though Alberic taught her most of her skills had stopped by to help her improve them several times as well. Alberic taught her the basics; Estinien refined them to be truly dangerous. It was nice. A surprise friend. Sort of like Haurchefant, though Estinien was much too reserved to propose to her like Haurchefant did. 

She was fairly certain that if she’d run up to Estinien begging him to marry her to sneak into the city, he would’ve frozen for a moment, stared at her, and run off never to be seen again. By her at least. Something like that.

She wondered if he was going to wear his armor to the wedding. She almost wished she could just wear hers, if only to spare herself having to go back into the bedroom-turned-fitting-room.

But Haurchefant and the Count clearly wanted a real wedding, even if the former knew it was only for a false reason, and she had to admit she was looking forward to it somewhat too. Wearing a big fancy dress, getting some rich cakes, standing in an altar covered in flowers. It would be a nice change of pace.

That last one apparently wasn’t big in Ishgard. It was more of a Gridanian tradition. But Eldionne had asked Count Fortemps if he could make it happen, and he assured her he would do all in his power to make it so, and so as long as all went well she would find herself under twisting wreaths of petals and vine when the time came.

She felt a little bad, asking for the effort for some sort of falsity. Trickery. Whatever you’d call it.

But Haurchefant had asked her if there was anything that could make her happier in the situation he’d put her in, and that had been it, so that they would do.

* * *

Then came the wedding. As the seamstress had said and Count Fortemps had explained, it was a moonlight wedding on Saint Finnea’s day. There were only a few people in attendance.

A cardinal was present to preside over the ceremony. Count Fortemps, Emmanellain, and Artoirel all stood in the audience. Tataru and Alphinaud did as well, as did Aymeric, Lucia, and Estinien. Definitely not who Eldionne would’ve expected at her wedding if you’d asked her a year before, but she had no objections. They were a lovely bunch.

As her father had long ago passed and she and Count Fortemps had only just met, she had no father figure to walk her down the aisle. Not to mention it felt a bit...archaic, to be handed off in such a matter. She was her own person, not a thing to be given.

But it also felt lonely to walk down the aisle herself. 

So they decided to go a different route. Once their small party had taken their places in the pews and at the altar, Haurchefant took Eldionne’s arm and walked her down the aisle up to the altar, coming out from a side room to reveal her to the others. Quite literally too, given she wore an only half-translucent veil over her face that Haurchefant would move back to fall over her hair once they arrived at the altar.

She hears a few gasps or sounds of wonder from the crowd as she walked up the petal covered altar, head held high. Alphinaud, Emmanellain, and Aymeric, she thought. Really, she didn’t look  _ that _ different. 

The gown on the other hand was, as she expected from Tataru, absolutely gorgeous.

It was a snow-white color, standing out against the silver-blue of her hair. The torso section was made of a silken fabric, clinging to her skin and going from halfway up her neck to her waist. There was a small cutout at the point where her chest began to dip, floral lace covering the top ilm or soof her breasts just enough to give a slight view without being too revealing. She ‘had to show off the gift she’d been given,’ Tataru had explained, which Eldionne thought ridiculous as she wasn’t particularly well endowed but agreed to anyway. It was cute.

Floral lace also flowed from her shoulders to her fingertips, hugging her arms down to her wrist. She wore a silver bracelet on her right hand, a simple band with a lily in the center. She had no necklace due to the height of her collar, so it was the only jewelry she wore.

At the waist, below a great silver-colored ribbon that tied into a bow at the back, the dress expanded out into something much thicker. It was no puffy ball gown, but it had a few layers. One of a shimmering translucent fabric peppered with small crystals that covered the back half, the rest made of a few heavier opaque layers falling like the Lominsan waves. 

Underneath, she wore white stockings and a pair of flats, not caring much for heels. She and Haurchefant were only about two ilms apart anyway, Eldionne being especially tall and Haurchefant being on the taller side but not particularly gigantic. No need to try to tower over him. The veil that covered her face came from a headband adorned with lilies to match her bracelet, reaching the small of her back when Haurchefant pushed it back at the altar.

His suit was lovely as well, though much simpler. It too was white, flowers attached to his lapel and a pin bearing the Fortemps crest beside them. He wore a tailcoat, rather than the waistcoats she was used to, over a silver vest and white undershirt. His white breeches were tucked into silver-colored boots that reached mid calf, a silver floral pattern matching that of Eldionne’s lace running down the sides. 

His bangs were also swept out of the way, for once. They’d been slicked back, still forming little spikes but revealing more of his eyes and eyebrows that she was used to seeing. Eldionne’s hair had also been done up slightly, front falling normally but bearing two thick braids that ran from her temples to a complex twisting vine pin at the back of her head. A bit silly given her veil covered it up, but she wasn’t going to complain. 

Both styles helped reveal the matching earrings they wore; simple silver clasps on the bottom of one ear each, right for Haurchefant and left for Eldionne. It was a cute tradition observed in Ishgard, and one she’d never heard of before that morning.

It was...nice, in a way. She felt beautiful, even if it wasn’t her normal style. A fun change for an evening. And Haurchefant was certainly handsome, in a suit and done up more than normal. Not that he looked  _ bad _ normally. He just...would not have surprised her if he explained he’d given a seven year old a pair of scissors and asked them to do his hair. And that hauberk-haubergeon combo, while an effective defense, didn’t really do his figure any favors.

Which was probably a terrible thing to be thinking while the cardinal read out their vows and whatnot. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing at the thought. She had a feeling that if she told Haurchefant just what she was thinking he’d probably laugh too, but it wasn’t the time. Maybe after the wedding.

So she kept silent, looking him in the eyes and sharing a silent question about how long the cardinal would continue talking. Hopefully not too much longer.

She felt a little better realizing Haurchefant wasn’t listening either, based on the way he stared into her eyes. It made her blush, actually. He really looked as though he adored her. As though he was over the moon to finally be paired with his dream bride…

It was a sweet stare. Warm. Loving.

It made her wish she could reciprocate. And stirred feelings in her own heart that seemed to call out but…

She still didn’t know him enough yet. She loved him, yes. He was a most wonderful friend and ally. She just didn’t love him in  _ that _ way. Not yet. Maybe someday, but as she stared into his eyes and did her best to play the part of a loving bride, she knew she couldn’t pretend as well as he could. He was the better actor of the two by far, it seemed. He could play being at love better than she could. She almost felt bad, seeing how hard he was trying to keep up this charade and knowing what a poor job she was doing herself.

But she shoved that thought away. No time to be sad during a wedding! And no point either. Haurchefant was doing his best and she would too. No more letting her thoughts drift to bad places.

So she let her closed-lip smile widen, and leaned just the slightest bit forward. Haurchefant’s grin widened too, revealing a slight glimpse of teeth. He winked at Eldionne, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes even as a slight blush warmed her cheeks. Really...to react so…!

Then the cardinal cleared his throat, and they both turned to face him.

The man seemed slightly annoyed. “As I said, Ser Greystone, you may now exchange rings and kiss your bride to seal your marriage and officially bring the two of you together in holy matrimony.”

Oh, whoops. They’d been too busy staring to pay attention to the important part.

But they were paying attention by then, so Haurchefant turned back to Eldionne and took her left hand in his own, pulling two rings out of his pocket. The first he slid onto her fourth finger, beside the engagement ring that had once belonged to his mother. The second he placed in her hand, holding out his own left hand so she could slide the ring onto his finger.

Once that was done, he placed his left hand on her waist, putting his right on the back of her neck. Then he gently pulled her in, leaning forward to capture her lips with his own.

Something sparked through Eldionne at that. 

She had barely managed to reciprocate when he pulled away. It was a surprisingly chaste kiss. Given how bold he normally was she had half expected him to sweep her off her feet in a huge dip and dramatic make-out that would probably have given the cardinal a heart attack because of how improper it would have been.

But instead he kissed her gently, touch light, and came away after only two or so seconds. 

A kiss to seal the deal, but nothing more. Something polite. But not something that would take advantage of her having been put in a situation she had consented to, but was not entirely sure of.

It was...she wasn’t sure.

It was polite. She was happy with it. She definitely would not have been happy with the cliché dramatic wedding dip.

Yet something inside her dared to feel the slightest disappointed. As if she wanted more. Which she didn’t, really. She was content with what they had had. She probably would have hidden for the rest of the week in embarrassment if he had swept her off her feet. It was for the best.

And her thoughts on the matter went no further, because Emmanellain broke out hooting and hollering, distracting her from it all. Artoirel then tried to quiet him in a not-so-quiet voice of his own, Count Fortemps chuckling lightly and focusing on the son on the altar rather than the two at his sides. Tataru let out some good yells of her own, Alphinaud clapping with a warm smile on his face. Aymeric and Lucia clapped as well, wearing similar expressions. And even Estinien, who for some godssforsaken reason was in fact still wearing his armor, was smiling under that helmet of his too.

Haurchefant slid his right hand from her neck to her elbow, releasing the hand on her waist. Then she held her arm forward so the two could walk arm and arm down to their small crowd, basking in the congratulations. 

“To think I would one day be standing here, watching my son be married to the woman of his dreams...I couldn’t be prouder,” Count Fortemps said, some unshed tears definitely forming in his eyes.

“Really, my lord, you don’t have to phrase it so!” Haurchefant shot back, rubbing his head and messing up his hair, causing a large section of bangs to fall half-forward in a way that was clearly not intended but hilarious enough that Eldionne couldn’t hold back her laughter this time. “And you! What’s so funny?”

“Your hair,” Eldionne got out between laughs, taking a moment to catch her breath. But then she looked back at his hair, sticking up like a porcupine, and burst out laughing again. To save herself from asphyxiation, she decided to remove her arm from his so she could reach up and fix it, pulling it and flattening it so it was in a style more resembling his normal one. “There. All better!”

Haurchefant pouted in response, earning laughter from Count Fortemps.

The count smiled at Eldionne. “I’m glad to see you two getting along so well. Laughter is an essential part of a healthy marriage, after all.” Then he looked up to Haurchefant. “And none of this ‘my lord’ business. We all know whose son you are. Please. Father will be fine, you know.”

For a moment, Haurchefant’s smile faltered. Then it came back up, though it seemed slightly less genuine than it had been a moment before. “Are you sure? I’m still a Greystone, after all.”

Count Fortemps’ expression faltered as well. Though instead of putting back up a smile, he remained tight lipped as he spoke. “Yes, I know. Some things are...difficult to change. But there’s nothing that says you may  _ not _ call me Father, and I love you just as I do Artoirel and Emmanellain. You are my son, regardless of whether you came from my wife or another.”

Haurchefant remained silent and still for a moment. Then he nodded, the warmth coming back to the curve of his lips. “Yes yes, of course! Then thank you, Father, and I hope to make you proud in the coming days!”

“Oh you already have,” Count Fortemps said back, before turning to where his other sons were arguing. “Sometimes I think they could learn a thing or two from you. And you them. Or, at least Artoirel. Emmanellain is a bit...well...I love him as well, and only want the best for him, which has led to me being a bit less strict than I perhaps should have been.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Eldionne said, entering a conversation she wasn’t entirely sure she was meant to be a part of anymore. “He seems a good enough man. He has things to learn about being polite and responsible, but I can tell his heart’s in the right place. I’m sure that with a little time and guidance Emmanellian will grow up to be just as great as his brothers.”

Count Fortemps sighed. “I pray he does. May the Fury guide him and me both in that respect.”

The conversation drifted off at that comment, to be picked back up when the rest of those in attendance wandered over.

“Congratulations!” Tataru cheered, breaking out into her signature pose, arms up and one leg back.

“To think I would see my favorite cousin married so soon… ‘twas a lovely ceremony, I must say. I hope mine can be as moving when the day comes,” Alphinaud remarked, bringing a gloved hand to his face to wipe away the real tears that he had somehow managed to conjure up. He sounded so genuine too. No wonder the kid was such a good politician - he was a fantastic actor.

Estinien frowned for a moment as if confused, which he likely was given he knew Eldionne was the last living member of her family and thus Alphinaud could not have been her cousin, but Aymeric placed a hand on his arm to stop his question from being voiced. He’d been given the rundown of the situation and had likely told Lucia, but it seemed Estinien had yet to be informed. 

“It was pretty great for being so rushed,” Emmanellain agreed, nodding far more strongly than necessary. As was his next comment also fairly unnecessary. “But, no offense to you all, I think I’d rather my ceremony have a bit more bang to it. A few hundred people, some good wines, a loud party afterwards… Not to mention a night of revelry beforehand to take advantage of my last hours of freedom, if you know what I mean,” he finished, wiggling his eyebrows.

Artoirel elbowed him in the gut, making Emmanellain double over. It wasn’t even that hard of an elbow. He really was dramatic. “Emmanellain, there are times to talk about such things, and times not to. This is one of the latter. Not to mention such talk is unbecoming of someone of your station.”

Emmanellain’s pout was as dramatic as ever. “Oh come on! It’s not like it’s  _ uncommon _ -”

“But your brother is right. Be polite, Emmanellain. I may not ask much of you, but I do ask this,” Count Fortemps interrupted.

“Oh all right…”

Aymeric chuckled. “Any honeymoon plans?”

Eldionne blinked. Honeymoon? She hadn’t even thought of that. She’d forgotten all about them, actually.

Haurchefant answered first. “Seeing as I must return to Camp Dragonhead at the end of the week, unfortunately not soon. But perhaps after things have calmed down and I have set a more concrete plan for Corientaux and the others who would take care of things in my absence. My wish for surprise has caused a little bit of a stir that needs time to die down, as you may know.”

“That I do,” Aymeric responded. He turned to Eldionne. “What are your plans for the coming days then? Pardon my assumptions, but from what Estinien has told me and from what I have seen, I don’t believe you’re the type of woman to settle down and manage the house right after marriage.”

Eldionne scoffed. “Definitely not. I plan to do as I regularly do: fight monsters, slay any primals that may arise, and aid those in need in whatever capacity I can.”

“A noble desire.”

“It’s just what I like to do.”

Which it was. Sometimes people asked why she stretched herself so thin; why she sacrificed sleep and time and resources helping the random people on the street she might never meet again. Why she gave her all for the Scions who some claimed benefited far more from her help than she benefited from their camaraderie. And her answer was always the same: because she wanted to. It made her feel happy, helping those in need. Seeing someone smile. Saving someone’s life. Knowing she made a difference, whether small or large. It would be lovely if the work she did came back to her some day, if there was some sort of good karma that might return. But even if it didn’t, she was satisfied with just the help. The person she helped won by getting aid and she won by seeing their smiles. She was an empathetic person through and through, and happiness was infectious. 

It was also why it hurt so badly to know the Scions were gone, and by the Crystal Braves’ doing. 

If she had managed to spend more time with Ilberd, would he have changed his mind? If she had thought more about his conversation with Raubahn, would she have noticed the signs? Could she have stopped the plot in its tracks?

Word of the Sultana’s death had not reached Ishgard. Nor had it spread throughout Ul’dah, from what Urianger had told Tataru over linkpearl. Which seemed unbelievable, as the Sultana’s death would be impossible to hide.

So that meant that there was a chance she was alive. That when she had collapsed in pain it had been only that and not death, Eldionne having been too shocked by the situation to check.

And if Nanamo was alive...that meant there was a good chance her friends could be alive too. That they might have escaped. Their deaths had not been confirmed, and until she saw their bodies with her own eyes and felt the lack of pulses with her own hands she would not give in to despair and declare them dead. There had to be a way. There had to.

The eleventh bell rang out through the night, echoing through the cathedral. It was a moonlight wedding, after all, so they’d begun quite late. Why it needed to be that late and not right after sunset Eldionne didn’t know, but she hadn’t bothered to question it. Maybe because they’d feasted before the ceremony, rather than after, seeing as Saint Finnea’s Day was a feast day anyway.

“‘Tis well time for us to retreat to our own homes,” Aymeric remarked, angling his upper body just the slightest bit forward in a shallow bow. “Thank you again for the invitation to the ceremony, but I fear it is time for us to depart. I don’t wish to keep you here too long.”

“Why? Because you need to get back to your own room to work until Halone knows what terrible hour in the morning, despite the fact that you promised to get some sleep for once?” Estinien chided, the first thing Eldionne had heard him say all evening other than a quiet ‘congratulations’ when she’d walked up to the group.

“Estinien,” Aymeric whispered, a warning in his voice.

“You know he’s right,” Lucia said right back, her visible eyebrow raised.

Aymeric sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Count Fortemps laughed warmly, patting the man on the shoulder. “You’re only young for so long, Ser Aymeric. While it is good to work while you’re able, it is also important to rest while you’re able. Even that becomes more difficult in later years.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to ever get old,” Tataru groaned, prompting more laughter.

“Well I think it’s worth it,” Haurchefant said. “There are only two ways to not get old: the first way is to somehow discover immortality, which would be quite impressive and I would love to know how you achieved it, but unfortunately unlikely. The second is dying young, and I quite doubt any of us here especially want that.”

Tataru sighed. “Yeah, definitely not. I just have to make my youth last and age gracefully then! The type of woman people say ‘what is she, thirty-five?’ until I’m fifty!”

“Sounds like a plan,” Eldionne giggled back. “Better buy yourself some anti-aging creams. I hear they’re all the rage in Ul’dah right now.”

“They are! I had a few back in the Waking Sands that Minfilia got me on our last girls’...day…”

Tataru trailed off, voice going quiet at the end of the sentence. Alphinaud looked away, and Eldionne couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to the floor.

Would they feel like this forever? Pained by even the mention of happy times with their old comrades? Unable to recall the good because of how bad the bad had been? Even in sweet moments of distraction, as a wedding should have been false pretenses or not?

The loud sound of someone clearing their throat drew the group’s attention. Haurchefant stood with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out. “Well then, it is getting late isn’t it? What say we return to our respective manors and get some sleep before we’re crying out at the sun in the morning when it calls us to our daily tasks? I believe we might have some cake in the Fortemps Manor as well, for those of us returning there.”

Eldionne took a deep breath. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Then she curtsied. “Thank you to all who came to this rushed ceremony. I know it may have taken most of you by surprise, but it was wonderful regardless- far more wonderful than I had ever expected given how last minute it was. So thank you greatly, I appreciate it more than you know.”

Farewells and well-wishes were exchanged thereafter, and soon the group departed Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. It was odd walking across town in the wedding dress. Though few people were out and about so late at night, those who were stopped to stare at her and Haurchefant, arms entwined and clearly together. She ignored them for the most part. Gazed ahead toward the Last Vigil and the Fortemps manor, kept her back straight and her chin up as long strides carried her toward her destination. Thankfully Haurchefant kept pace with her, though she slowed after a short while once she realized the strain her speed was putting on Count Fortemps. He’d insisted he was feeling fine that evening, but she could hear the uneven click of his cane and shoes against the stone behind her. 

“You two are perfectly free to go on ahead yourselves,” Count Fortemps said when they fell in step with him. “No need to hold back for an old man.”

“An old man who has treated me like his own daughter, and who’s daughter-in-law I now am. It’s only respectful, and I want to show you the kindness you’ve shown me. What kind of person would I be otherwise?”

He chuckled. “A lovely one.”

“Quite!” Haurchefant agreed, making Eldionne roll her eyes.

“Perhaps. But I can be a better one by not going so fast I threaten to trip you by making you keep up. It’s only one night. I can certainly slow down for this single walk,” she explained.

“I suppose. But do remember you two don’t have much time together in the coming days, seeing as Haurchefant must return to his post. I would hate to stop you from making the most of it.”

“Being together is the important part. I see no reason why we can’t be together and with you for a portion of this remaining time.” She shrugged, a slightly awkward motion given Haurchefant’s arm was still locked with hers. “Besides, we do have linkpearls. Which...are not that common now that I think of it. But they’re little communication devices if you aren’t familiar with them, and I ended up giving one to Haurchefant after one of our meetings several months ago. I hope you don’t mind.”

The count smiled. “Haurchefant is an adult, and I cannot control what he does or receives.”

“I’d trust your judgement anyway,” Haurchefant practically sang back, swinging his arms with the motion and half-dragging Eldionne’s arm along with him.

“I’m glad of it.” Count Fortemps paused for a moment, clicks of heels and cane and the soft conversation of Artoirel, Emmanellain, Tataru, and Alphinaud ahead of them the only sounds in the night. “The servants do not know of the...particularities of your relationship. To stop them from snooping, I suggest you take your sheets to the washroom in the morning yourself. I know you’re familiar with how to clean them, Haurchefant. No need to finish washing them, but I do suggest you at least start so that they cannot see the lack of evidence. When pressed, just give your normal excuse of wanting to do things yourself and not wanting to impose. As you’ve been doing it since childhood, it should be of no special suspicion.”

Eldionne’s eyes widened at that, and Haurchefant’s next step fell awkwardly against the stone, catching on a small ice patch and causing him to slip. Eldionne firmed up her core and widened her stance slightly, grabbing his waist with her free arm and dragging him back up to keep him from falling.

“Father…” Haurchefant frowned deeply, looking almost hurt.

Count Fortemps shook his head. “I will not force you to explain your reasoning here. You are my son, and I love and trust you. Though this is not exactly the type of surprise I was expecting to be met with, it is one I will accept. I only hope you both agreed to this, and that you can part ways amicably when the time comes. I can tell you’re close friends, even if Lady Eldionne’s heart is not quite there, and I only wish you can remain so when your need dissipates.”

Haurchefant’s frown lessened slightly, but did not entirely disappear. “I see. Thank you, Father. And...we will explain one day. I swear.”

“I will not hold it against you if you do not,” Count Fortemps replied.

Eldionne shook her head. “No, you deserve it. Just...in a little time. And thank you for going along with this even if it’s not...as real as it probably should be.”

“Anything for my son,” Count Fortemps began, “and anything for the woman whom he so clearly adores, even if not as a true husband to wife.”

“...”

The rest of the walk back was one of silence for the three. They chatted over the rich cake waiting for them back in the manor, but about nothing especially important. Several glasses of wine were poured as they drank, Eldionne not paying attention to what she drank as every time she looked away it seemed to have been refilled. She probably only had two or three in total, as she never cared to drink much, but she couldn’t be entirely sure.

Then each departed for their rooms- Eldionne leaving with Haurchefant, rather than Tataru as she had been.

Haurchefant’s room was quite large. A grand poster bed large enough to fit at least four people, a bench at the foot, an enormous dresser on one wall and an armor and weapons rack on the one opposite. The windows, hidden by blinds, were clearly enormous. They would let in a wonderful amount of light, and likely had a grand view of the city and the Sea of Clouds below. There was also a standing mirror in one corner, as well as a three-part screen that could be moved back and forth.

“Would you like me to turn away while you undress?” Haurchefant asked, startling Eldionne out of her reverie.

That was...unexpected. After all he’d said about her body, both after they’d arrived in Ishgard and over drinks and regular conversation in Dragonhead, she hadn’t expected him to offer to  _ not _ see it of all things.

“Later, maybe. For now there are a few parts I don’t think I can get off myself, or would be a pain to try to do alone. Can you start with the lacing on the back? The corset isn’t terrible, but it feels awkward to move my shoulders in the way I need to to undo it,” she answered.

Haurchefant quietly did as he was told, his fingers chilly when they touched skin. The walk back must have cooled them. It was a pity they hadn’t warmed back up during dinner. Maybe moving around could help that.

Which immediately brought a blush to her face, thinking about just  _ how _ the rest of the house (save the Count, Alphinaud, and Tataru) probably thought they’d be moving around that night.

But looking at the mirror, she could tell Haurchefant’s focus was on the task at hand and her back, rather than her reddened cheeks. Good.

“Would you like me to get the ribbon at your waist as well?” 

“Sure. There are some pins holding it in place, so try not to nick me with one of those, will you?”

“Me, maim your perfect skin? Never!”

Eldionne scoffed. “Perfect? I have far too many scars and burns for that to be true. You’ve seen a fair amount of them, even if you haven’t seen everything.”

“Perfect need not mean unblemished or unmarred. My version of perfect is far more decorated. The scars and burns and all the rest are symbols of your valor, trophies earned from your ability to survive and carry on!” Haurchefant insisted, his breath tickling her spine. He really was close to her.

“I suppose,” Eldionne conceded. 

After all, it wasn’t as if she disliked any of the scars or burns. They were as Haurchefant said - reminders of what she had fought for. What she believed in.

Reminders of those she had lost. Of those she could yet save.

She was alive, and they proved it. Despite all the odds, despite everything that had been stacked against her, she had advanced and made it out, even if not unscathed, relatively whole. And that was something to be proud of.

Not to mention the fact that she just liked the look of scars. She wasn’t going to be intentionally giving herself any, but she wasn’t going to raid the market for scar-be-gone either. They had a certain appeal.

Haurchefant had his fair share of them as well, she knew. Once when they’d gone out to slay some monsters around Dragonhead he’d gotten knocked into a tree that proceeded to drop nearly all its snow onto him, leaving him near soaked to the bone by the time they’d made it back to camp. The second they entered the main hall he practically ripped off his haubergeon and hauberk, bolting to the fireplace after he grabbed a blanket from behind his desk. 

Eldionne had warned him about warming up too fast, but he insisted he would be fine. And then mentioned that the main way to help people who’d gotten too cold was to warm them with body heat, and that if she wanted to help him out in that way he would not say no.

She’d kindly walked outside, grabbed a handful of snow, and returned to drop it on his head at that.

Of course, it only made him giggle, and she made sure the snow fell to the front where the blanket was still open, keeping it warm and dry. It also gave her quite a nice view of his chest and arms, toned and even more scarred than hers.

The benefits of growing up around conjurers. Magic could heal faster than the natural way of things, which led to fewer scars as long as one didn’t get healed too many times in too short a period. So thanks to the large number of conjurers in Gridania and the occasional aid of Y’shtola while with the Scions, she had a few fewer scars, even if she might have been in more situations that might have caused them. Maybe so. Maybe not. He was a knight, and a commander at that. Though she’d been fighting for years, she was still two years younger than him, and her time with the Wood Wailers probably wasn’t quite as dangerous as fighting in the Dragonsong War.

“Alright, I’m done!” Haurchefant announced, standing up and looking over her shoulder at their reflections in the mirror. “Do you think you can get the rest, or would you like me to help some more?”

“I’ll be fine,” Eldionne replied, making eye contact with his reflection.

Haurchefant nodded, his chin briefly touching her cheek. Then he pulled away, turning around himself.

“I’ll be changing too, then. I believe one of the maids has left a nightgown for you on the other side of the screen, if you’d like to change there.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

Eldionne shook her head, exhaling strongly as she moved behind said screen and proceeded to remove the rest of her outfit. When she finished, Haurchefant was sitting on the bed, dressed in a night shirt and shorts. 

“Sooo…” he began, scratching his head. “Which side do you want? Right or left?”

Eldionne blinked. “Uh. Right works for me.”

“Left for me it is!” he exclaimed, rolling over to the left side of the bed. He patted the right side. “All available for the taking, my lady.”

A snort escaped her lips as Eldionne climbed into bed, picking up one of the many pillows to hit Haurchefant over the head. “Do you really need to be so dramatic about everything?”

“Yes!” he laughed back, grabbing a pillow to hit her back. His blow was definitely less gentle than hers.

“Hey!” she huffed, putting on her best pout. “I grabbed one of the super fluffy ones so that it wouldn’t hurt, but there you go bonking me with one of the hard ones! Unfair!”

Then, to make up for the initial inequalities in pillow firmness and hit strength, she grabbed the pillow that matched Haurchefant’s and thwacked him in the face with it.

“Ah! My beautiful nose!” he cried. “Look, you’ve gone and made it all  _ crooked.  _ How could you!?”

Eldionne rolled her eyes “Oh shush you! It’s always been like that, and I happen to think it’s cute. It gives you a certain kind of character.” She then picked up the soft pillow to thwack him again. “But if it upsets you so much, then there. I fixed it.”

Haurchefant, sniffing as though he was trying to recover from a terrible sob, brought his left hand up to wiggle his nose a bit. “Ah, there we go. All better.” He grinned. “Now I should return the favor. It’s only polite.”

“Return the- fwuah!” 

Upon finishing his words, Haurchefant proceeded to grab not one, but  _ two _ pillows to hit Eldionne with, a soft one for the face and a firm one for the stomach. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Eldionne hissed through gritted teeth, grabbing his wrist to rip the firm pillow out of his grasp and toss it across the room. She moved to get the fluffy one next, but he grabbed one of her wrists before she could take that from him two. Hand on wrist and hands on pillow, the two ended up wrestling for possession of the pillow, rolling around the bed and into the remaining pillows before they ended with Eldionne on top of Haurchefant, straddling his waist and ripping the fluffy pillow out of his grip in a shower of feathers.

“Oh,” they breathed simultaneously, coughing slightly as feathers rained down around them.

“Whoops?” Haurchefant offered weakly, Eldionne still sputtering with her tongue out as she tried to pick out the last few feather bits.

“Whoops indeed,” she said once she thought she’d gotten them all out.

“We should probably stop before we give the house staff too much of a headache come morning.”

“Probably.”

Their chests rose and fell quickly and heavily, trying to catch their breaths from the mixture of exertion and laughter. Though the lost pillow would be missed, death was only to be expected in such fierce battles. A casualty in a war that would lose no others thanks to its sacrifice, having imparted a final message upon the warring sides.

Which sounded totally ridiculous, but whatever. She had had fun, and thinking it had been fun.

Haurchefant cleared his throat. “Had I not known you were a dragoon before, I would certainly have been able to guess it after this. You have quite the amazing thigh strength. And grip.”

Eldionne looked down to where she was still straddling Haurchefant. And quickly climbed off, scooting back over to her side of the bed.

“My apologies, I was distracted,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“None needed! ‘Tis not as if I was injured by your position. It was kind of fun, actually.” Haurchefant’s breath caught in his throat for a minute. “That is...I meant- uh. Please forget I said that, Eldionne. I think I may have had a drink or two more than I should have, and best get to sleep before a headache sets in.”

Eldionne cleared her throat. “Yes, I also likely had more than I should have. Goodnight, Haurchefant.”

“Goodnight to you too.”

He rose to blow out the candles in the room, returning to bed once the room was dark.

Eldionne rested there for a while, unable to fall asleep for what must’ve been at least a bell. She did hear the first bell go off at some point while she lied there, actually, so it was a while. But sleep did eventually claim her, a dreamless rest guiding her to the morn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoohoo! They're now officially married! And had a cute pillow fight! I hope I didn't mess up the tone too much having people start getting sad over Scion stuff in the middle, but I feel like WoL, Tataru, and Alphinaud wouldn't just get over everything immediately no matter how happy the situation is. I do feel like I was flipflopping a little more than I needed to, but as someone whose favorite genre/trope/whatever is angst it's usually the happy stuff that gives me trouble so trying to find a balance is difficult.
> 
> Oh, and if anyone checked this note, the adult topics were just the sheets thing. Because if they were actually together and having fun wedding night activities...you get it. 
> 
> Anyway! My goal is to get another chapter out by the end of next week, but we'll see. I technically already have it written, but I've yet to revise it and as of now I'm trying to reach 50,000 word by the end of February so my primary focus these next few days is to do that. Once that's done I'll get on revising the next chapter, but I might give myself a few days off to rest. Thank you for all the comments so far! It really means a lot, and I can't tell you how fast seeing all the reactions got me writing. You guys are my energy source! Until next time.
> 
> WAIT LAST THING LIKE 5 MINUTES AFTER POSTING I MADE ELDIONNE IN THE CHARACTER CREATOR AND DON'T KNOW HOW TO EMBED IMAGES IN AO3 BUT YOU CAN SEE HER [HERE](https://twitter.com/mariyekos/status/1364736035813421056?s=20). You can't see bc I'm zoomed in but she is in fact max height, 25% chest slider, and 100% ear length. It's very important to her character.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the graphic depictions of violence tag (which are...debatably graphic but I want to be safe) are for the *next* chapter, not this one as I'd thought. Going back I realized that what was supposed to be a single chapter here was about 15,000 words long, which while I've done it a few times for my big FE longfic isn't what I wanted to do here.
> 
> Also yeah this is not going to be 30k words. Probably going to be more like 50-70k at minimum. Anyways this chapter is mostly about family stuff because that's fun, so hope you enjoy!

Despite the late night, both Haurchefant and Eldionne rose at dawn (Haurchefant actually being the second to wake, some five or so minutes after Eldionne got changed into the type of breeches and tunic she was more comfortable wearing and more typically wore), stripping the bed as soon as they were both up. Following the Count’s suggestion Haurchefant immediately marched them to the washroom, leaving Eldionne alone in the room when one of the servants entered roughly twenty or so minutes later to collect them.

“Had a fun night?” the woman asked with a wink, a knowing smile on her face. She was probably in her mid-sixties, and from the band she wore on her left ring finger had likely married at some point. So she would have a good idea of what one was supposed to do on their wedding night, even if that was not what had actually occurred.

Still, she deserved a response. “It was lovely,” Eldionne replied truthfully, feeling the smile rise unbidden. But not unwelcome. She’d had a good enough time, getting to dress up, seeing some of her friends, eating delicious cake, ending with a rather rambunctious pillow fight. So it was more than just good, really, when you excused the few but not too-terrible awkward or sad moments. Which had been a product of her own mind rather than the night itself.

“I’m glad to hear. Though he has his quirks, Lord Haurchefant is a wonderful man, and I’m beyond pleased to see he’s found someone to make him so happy, and that he can do the same for you. You should have seen him as a boy - with a few exceptions for those little childhood rebellious moments, he was cheery as could be despite the circumstances. Even after his mother died and some of the Count’s guests weren’t very…” she stopped herself. “Oh, you don’t need to hear about that! My apologies, my lady. The point is, I’m wonderfully glad you two are happy. If the giggling and other sounds I heard last night were any indication. Really, to run off so quickly with the sheets...there’s, no need to be embarrassed about it! It’s a wedding night tradition.”

Giggling and other sounds?

Oh. 

_Oh_. The pillow fight. Which her companion had interpreted as…

...Well, correcting her wouldn’t benefit Eldionne’s situation, so she’d let the servant think what she wanted. She could handle a few whispers. And all the better to continue her and Haurchefant’s farce.

The servant chuckled, a motherly noise. “Oh, look at your cheeks! I didn’t mean to embarrass you too, my lady. A thousand pardons.”

“Don’t worry about it. Embarrassment is a part of life. It’ll just take me a little while to get used to it all, you know, miss…?”

“Sofine, my lady.”

“Then Sofine. I appreciate the honesty, really. So it’s no big deal!”

“As you say, Lady Eldionne. Now, have you placed your old garments in the wash basket?”

Eldionne looked to the chair she’d piled everything on the night before. Not very neatly either. “Oh, no, sorry. They’re just...over there. I didn’t think about that. I’m used to doing this all myself, so having someone else to do it is something I’ll need to adjust to.”

Sofine bowed. “Adjust as you will, my lady. Let me or any of the other serving staff know if you would like us to do anything special for you. If anyone should be adjusting to the other, it is us to you.”

Eldionne returned the bow, realizing halfway through that maybe that wasn’t the polite thing to do due to the difference in status. But Sofine probably wouldn’t take offense. She seemed to realize that Eldionne’s Gridanian upbringing led to a few mistakes here and there. “Will do. I’ll see you later then!”

Sofine nodded in return, and Eldionne grabbed a heavy jacket before heading for the back porch where Haurchefant said he’d meet her before breakfast. 

She could see her breath in the air, feeling the tips of her ears and nose go red. The chill on her fingers made her consider going back inside to grab gloves, but she decided to just shove her hands in her pocket, lifting her shoulders and lowering her chin to burrow in the thick furs on the coat’s collar. She wondered what it had been made of. Snow wolf? Chinchilla?

The crunch of snow behind her let Eldionne knew someone was approaching. She didn’t bother to turn, fairly certain she knew who it was.

“You know, sometimes I envy people with short ears. Long ears may be the popular sign of beauty, but they get so cold in the chill! Perhaps it’s Halone’s way of saying we shouldn’t prize them so much, or shouldn’t be so vain,” Haurchefant commented, walking until he was right beside her. His hands were on his hips, left elbow brushing against the edge of her coat. “Not to say I don’t like your ears, long as they are. They’re quite lovely, even if not the best in this weather.”

Eldionne snorted. “Flirt.”

Haurchefant huffed back. “What can I say? I’m simply being honest here.”

“Well then you have nice ears too.” One of which was wearing the earring from their wedding night, the other wearing the plain black clip he normally wore. “Oh, am I supposed to be wearing my earring as well? Sorry, I didn’t realize that was a thing. Hope I didn’t offend.”

Haurchefant shrugged, unbothered. “There is no decree saying you must. I just liked it. And thought it would be a better show than the ring that will be either hidden beneath gloves or hidden under my shirt if I wear it on a chain.”

“Then let me get mine too. We need to match if we’re going to do this right,” Eldionne stated, voice firm. She turned around, walking back toward their room.

For whatever reason, Haurchefant stuttered as he next spoke. “Eldionne, r-really, you needn’t do something you don’t wish to. I mean, it would be lovely and I wouldn’t be upset if you put it on, but there’s no need to force yourself.”

Eldionne ignored him, walking on. “And there’s no need for you to be upset either. I usually don’t wear earrings because I’m wearing my helm, but as long as I’ve got my ears out in the open, I might as well decorate them. Besides, the earrings are pretty. I don’t dislike mine,” Eldionne reached the door to Haurchefant’s bedroom and opened the small jewelry case she’d been given. The earring only took a short time to put on. “There. Now I’m perfect!” she exclaimed, lifting her chin to make the earring sway back and forth. From the way Haurchefant’s moved, she could tell it caught beautifully in the light.

And standing in the doorway a few yalms away, Haurchefant was currently blushing like she’d never seen him blush before.

Eldionne blinked. Why was he blushing so fiercely…?

She threw her chin down, looking at her garments. No holes in her breeches. The laces of her tunic that covered her bosom had not come undone. The fur coat covered almost everything anyway. There was no reason to blush as far as she could tell.

“Are you doing alright over there?” she asked, cocking her her to the side.

“Yes, yes, just lovely,” Haurcehfant coughed out, shaking his head as if that would somehow help clear it and the blush away. “We should be heading to breakfast then, shouldn’t we? I’d hate to have to make Emmanellain shout at us again, though sometimes I think that anything that gets him to expend effort is for the best and that it might be worth it.”

Eyes narrowed, suspicion still raised, Eldionne nodded. Maybe it was just a weird Haurchefant thing. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to get in on the earring thing, having realized she wasn’t a particularly amazing actor and thus had not expected her to go so far.

She let her expression fall back into neutrality as they entered the dining room, taking their seats at the long table which only Tataru and Emmanellain had yet reached. Surprising to see he was up already.

“He always shows up early for meals,” Haurchefant explained, leaning over to whisper into her ear. He must’ve sensed the question.

“Really?” Eldionne whispered back, grinning. “And here I thought he was the type to sleep till noon and scream at the sun for ‘daring to rise and necessitate his waking.’”

“Pfff!” Haurchefant responded, a hissed laugh that was the result of trying to smother something stronger.

Emmanellain frowned, though in a friendly, playful sort of manner. “What are you two up to over there? You better not be conspiring against me. I swear I didn’t _mean_ to do anything to offend you, if that’s what’s going on.”

“Intent or not, you still did it,” Tataru chided, shaking her head.

Eldionne furrowed her brow, confused. What was Tataru talking about? She couldn’t recall anything he’d done to offend, they were just joking.

But then she caught the glint in Tataru’s eye and it all made sense. A game was about to begin.

Emmanellain’s frown turned into confusion. “I did? Oh, sorry then. I swear I didn’t intend anything bad.” Then the frown returned as something real. “But wait, what did I do?”

Haurchefant raised an eyebrow. It seemed that, unlike his brother, he’d caught on too. “What did you do? Do you really have to ask?”

Eldionne sighed, shaking her own head far more dramatically than was probably necessary.. “‘What did I do,’ he asks, as if he really can’t tell after what happened.”

Emmanellain’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what did I do!? Seriously!?”

“You really can’t keep yourself together for one morning?” Artoirel asked as he entered the room, sitting next to his youngest brother. “Emmanellain, please. Sooner or later you’ll have to get your act together. We’re doing our best to help you, but there will come a time when we’re not there to aid you. Apologize to them, would you?”

Eldionne had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She, Tataru, and Haurchefant were all just messing around, so she’d worried Emmanellain would to catch on soon. Well, frankly she wouldn’t have minded that much as she didn’t want the teasing to go too far, but she still would’ve been slightly disappointed at the loss of fun. But then Artoirel, who was certainly not on it and thus far less deserving of suspicion, had entered and just assumed they were talking about some real incident. Cementing the fact that it had happened in Emmanellain’s mind. She wondered how much longer they could keep it up.

Emmanellain, meanwhile, was turning side to side wildly, trying to catch anyone’s eye to get some help. “Oh come on, you all. I said it wasn’t intentional!”

“That doesn’t erase the offense,” Artoirel shot back, eyeing the pastries across from Tataru and hardly paying his brother any mind.

Emmanellain just frowned harder. “But I didn’t mean to do anything!”

“Didn’t mean to do what?” Alphinaud asked with a yawn as he took his own seat next to Tataru, clearly not wanting to be awake yet. “You didn’t do anything odd last night as far as I can recall.”

Ah. And there it was. The end of their fun. 

“Exactly!” Emmanellain shouted, rising to his feet and just barely avoiding knocking his chair over. “I don’t know what everyone’s so worked up about.”

Count Fortemps made his entrance at the end of Emmanellain’s exclamation, clearing his throat and taking his seat.

“It’s good to see you all so lively in the morning. I hope you all rested well.” His eyes caught on Eldionne and Haurchefant, showing a moment of surprise before his expression warmed into something paternal. “Still wearing the wedding earrings? How sweet. I could never quite convince Saselle to do so, as she insisted it was too bold, but I’ve always found it endearing.”

“Well, Haurchefant was the one that surprised me by putting his on, so I thought it only fitting I wear mine as well. I see no reason not to, and as you said, it’s sweet,” Eldionne explained. She glanced over to Haurchefant, who had shoved his mouth full of pastry the moment his father noted the earrings. 

“Hwhm-fwh hng,” Haurchefant mumbled, so incomprehensible Eldionne had a feeling he wasn’t even trying to say real words.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, it’s not polite.” Emmanellain warned, waving his own jelly-covered pastry in the air for emphasis. He then looked to Artoirel, eyes drifting over while his head stayed straight as if he was trying to be sneaky about it.

Artoirel sighed. “He’s right. Not to mention you risk choking if you do that.”

Haurchefant swallowed loudly, then wiggled his eyebrows. “And which one of the three of us did that multiple times in his childhood? So badly a chirurgeon was called on one occasion?”

“...” Artoirel looked down, grabbing a pastry of his own and tearing off a piece to eat rather than shoving it into his mouth as his brothers had both done.

The rest of breakfast was rather calm, with occasional conversation that helped the different parties learn about their companions’ past. It was a bit awkward at times when Alphinaud, Eldionne, and Tataru ran into parts of their past that didn’t exactly match the story they’d given, but they did their best to improvise a convincing story. 

The reason Tataru talked about working in Ul’dah even though she was the Gridanian Eldionne’s childhood friend was that her father was a merchant, so she’d been born in Ul’dah, lived in Gridania for a time during an experimental mercantile exploit, and then moved back, to be parted until Eldionne came to work for the same employer (the Scions) by chance. Though Alphinaud had grown up in Sharlayan, and his grandfather and father were both Sharlayan through and through, it was his mother who’d shared parents with Eldionne’s father, creating their blood connection. That was part of how Eldionne came to work for the Scions, or rather the Path of the Twelve years before - since it was connected to Louisoix, even if distantly.

Hopefully they wouldn’t look too deeply into that and find the flaws.

Hopefully by the time the Scions were able to reveal the truth (and hopefully they would be able to reveal the truth themselves, rather than have someone else expose them without their consent), the Fortemps would forgive them for their secrecy and half-truths. Or lies. Half-truths was too soft a word, really.

Once they were done and the dishes were taken away, Count Fortemps cleared his throat.

“Eldionne,” he began. “You told me that you wished to help our family in whatever way possible, and offered your martial skills to our cause. I know that many of the High Houses’ and Heaven’s Ward’s eyes are on you as well. As such, I have spent the last several days thinking about how you could prove yourself to them, and how you could help officialize your position as a member of this family. 

“In Ishgard, the High Houses are tasked with defending the nation from all threats, dragon and man alike. As such, I have two tasks to give you, both to carry this out and to help you bond with my other two sons. The second I will give you when you are finished with the first and Artoirel has finished setting the details. The first, then, is to assist Emmanellain in the Sea of Clouds, which is under the oversight of our allies the Haillenartes. Francel’s older sister Laniatte heads the defense there, so I ask that you journey with Emmanellain to meet her and help her carry whatever tasks she deems necessary. ‘Tis a show of good faith between our houses first and foremost, so I cannot guarantee how much combat you will see, but as the potential is there and I know you have more experience than Emmanellain, I ask that you guide my son and give him advice as needed.”

Eldionne rose from her seat so she could give a proper bow. “Of course, Count- that is, Edmont. I’m happy to help in any way I can.” She turned to Emmanellain, who looked as though this was also his first time hearing about the outing. “What preparations need to be made before we leave? If possible I’d like an hour or so to gather my new armor from the armory and visit the Jeweled Crozier for supplies, but I can be ready in about twenty minutes if you would like to leave faster.”

Emmanellain blinked rapidly and then rose himself, tugging on his collar as if trying to collect himself. “I was just about to suggest we do just that. I should’ve known someone as experienced as you would’ve been able to come up with a plan matching mine in brilliance. An hour it is! I’ll have Honoroit collect my armor and we can meet at the airship landing by the tenth bell.”

Eldionne raised an eyebrow. “Will you not be joining me at the Jeweled Crozier? Unless you have all the supplies you need already, in which case I understand perfectly.”

Emmanellain laughed nervously. “Of course I have all the supplies I need! I’m always the utmost prepared for these sorts of things, as is the duty of the sons of House Fortemps.”

“Good to know,” Eldionne replied with a bright smile, quite aware he was lying through his teeth. He wasn’t very good at it. Then a thought came to her. “What about Alphinaud and Tataru?”

Alphinaud chose to respond. “The Count has graciously offered to take me through his personal library to look for some records I’ve been curious about, as well as to the Scholasticate if I have any questions his materials cannot answer. I believe Tataru wishes to explore more of the town?”

“That’s right! I thought it would be a good idea to talk to some of the people around here to get their views on things. Better to hear it from the people’s mouths than books, y’know?” Tataru explained.

Eldionne nodded. “Of course. Good luck in your respective searches.”

“Good luck in your fights!” Tataru winked back.

Next, Eldionne looked to Haurchefant. “And what of- my husband?”

Haurchefant jerked for a moment. Had her words caught him off guard? That was fair, given they’d caught in her own throat, odd as they were. But they had an act to sell. 

“I plan to join Artoirel in his investigation into some disturbances near Falcon’s Nest. There have been rumors of heretic activity, and given what occurred at Snowcloak, I thought it only fitting I assist him,” he explained.

“Sounds good. I hope to see you before you leave for Dragonhead, then.”

“You can count on it!”

With that, the group parted for their respective destinations. 

When Eldionne had asked for an hour to prepare, it had largely been to give Emmanellain or Honoroit time to prepare whatever he needed. Eldionne had most of what she desired, having been to the Jeweled Crozier before to stock up, but would return for one last look-over just to make sure there wasn’t anything she’d forgotten. She’d expected the trip to the armory to take no more than ten minutes, and the Jeweled Crozier no more than double that, but her predictions were thrown out of the window when Estinien stopped her right as she collected her armor from the blacksmith.

“Aymeric filled me in on the situation,” he began, guiding Eldionne to an alleyway right outside. “Yet I still question the logic behind this. Could you not have come to Aymeric or I for help? As Lord Commander, he could have made arrangements that Haurchefant could not. As Azure Dragoon, I could have vouched for your character as another chosen by the eye. Why enter in this way? Though you’ve spoken well of him in our conversations, I know your fondness of him is not so to prompt a marriage.”

Eldionne leaned against one of the stone walls. She’d donned her armor in a back room in the few moments between being handed it and being accosted by Estinien, so the cold stone hit steel instead of cloth. And her helm gave her the advantage of a half-hidden expression, something Estinien was so fond of using himself.

“If Aymeric has already explained the situation to you, then I see no need to explain myself. We were pressed for time. We didn’t know when news of the Sultana’s death was going to break and couldn’t afford waiting for you or Aymeric to respond in case either of you were out of town or otherwise busy.”

Estinien stared blankly at her. He didn’t seem content with her response.

Eldionne rolled her eyes, not that Estinien could see. “And we were stressed, okay? We were cold, hungry, and running out of options. The marriage thing came up by chance and we were all too panicked to try to look for other avenues. But now it’s done, so you don’t need to worry yourself over it anymore, okay? What’s done is done.”

Estinien sighed, relenting. “Fine. But if he ever harms you, or ever does something that makes you uncomfortable-”

“Estinien I’m a grown woman. One who has defeated you in combat, lest you forget. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. Not to mention Haurchefant is a good man. He’d never intentionally do something that I wouldn’t want, and if he ever does I’m sure I can set him straight. Give me some space.”

“...” Estinien grumbled something Eldionne didn’t quite catch before sighing again. “As you wish. But truly- if you ever have need of an ally, whether for politics or strength, you need only ask. Though being from Coerthas is not the same as being from outside of Ishgard’s bounds entirely, I know full well how arrogant many of the curs in power can be to those without a storied bloodline, and would be glad to help where I can. As will I be at the ready for whenever Nidhogg decides to show himself again. It can’t be long until he rouses once more.”

“That it can’t,” Eldionne agreed, thinking of the power and waves of anger that had wracked through her body the last time Nidhogg had cried out. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like for Estinien, who held the Eye that served as a conduit for his power. “And thank you for the offer. I’ll be more likely to take you up on this one than the last.”

“As I said, don’t hesitate to call upon me when needed. Now hurry along- Aymeric tells me the Fortemps are set to go help the Haillenhartes, and given I know the two older sons are headed to Falcon’s Nest, that means you must be saddled with the younger, and you can never be too prepared when working with him. He’s… a handful to say the least. Pampered for far too long and much in need of a rude awakening if you ask me. Maybe you should let him get knocked around a little during your trip. I’ll fund an elixir if you’d like to do it,” Estinien finished with a laugh.

Eldionne snorted. Then shook her head after a moment of considering the offer. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m here to build my reputation, and letting Emmanellain get hurt won’t help that much, even if I do save him in the end.”

Estinien shrugged, raising his forearms and palms to the sky. “If that’s what you want. Until next we meet, then.”

“Until next time,” Eldionne echoed.

Then Estinien stepped out from the alley, looking around for a second before Jumping onto a nearby rooftop and then Jumping again until he was out of sight.

Did he really need to do that? Couldn’t he have just walked? Was it a need to be dramatic or just a love of being in the air? Maybe she’d ask one day.

Her trip to the Jeweled Crozier didn’t take long. She decided to pick up a few extra elixirs, just in case, but other than that her trip didn’t remind her of anything she was missing. So with roughly fifteen minutes to spare Eldionne set out for the Airship landing. Where she waited until fifteen minutes _after_ the tenth bell. At which time Emmanellain came running down the street, Honoroit with two large bags running behind him. Both wore armor.

“Ah, I see you arrived early,” Emmanellain exhaled, trying hard to catch his breath.

Eldionne looked up at the nearby clock to make sure she hadn’t misread the time. She had not.

“I did,” she decided to say, as it was the truth. She just wouldn’t mention that he’d arrived late, as by the look on Honoroit’s face Emmanellain was well aware of the fact but likely would only deflect any mentions of his delay.

“Are you ready to depart?”

“I am. I take it you are as well?”

“Of course!”

“Then lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is it about the earring that has Haurchefant so worked up? Well...it has some special meanings...that i have not ironed out which is terrible but basically it's supposed to be very intimate. Hence why Count Fortemps couldn't get his first wife to do it, because it's a sign of *really* devoted devotion, in my completely headcanon-based world. If just one person wears it then it's a sign of love so Haurchefant wanted to do it, but when both do it oh boy. That's a little much, even for him. 
> 
> Next chapter is the Sea of Clouds. It'll be longer than this one with some combat scenes, which is ironically what I have way more experience writing despite the fact that I don't super love writing them (mostly because I tend to get stuck). Thank you for all the comments, everyone! Even a simple "I liked this!" really makes my day, and I can't express how happy all your comments have made me. I've never gotten so many in such a short time period here on AO3. So, <3 readers! You're what make the words get written and the ideas get flowing.

**Author's Note:**

> For the first post I'll be putting out both chapters 1 and 2, so look for the second one shortly if it's not up when you click on this! My idea here is that Haurchefant to be in love with WoL, but she doesn't really love him back. Not romantically, at least. Platonically maybe. But he realizes she's not in love with him even if he's in love with her, so he'll try to be as respectful as he can while still being someone who does not have a natural filter about what you probably should and should not say. I imagine him as being pretty bold not because he's trying to push buttons, but because that's just how he is. A little _too _genuine, if you know what I mean. And WoL, or Eldionne, realizes that he likes her, but doesn't fully realize/process that he _loves _her loves her, if that makes sense.____


End file.
